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<|description|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. spoiler, this character is set to 'die' and be inactive for the remainder of the game Species: Half-automaton, half-golem. Age: At least a century (factual), thirty-something (appearance). Gender: Male. Appearance: Looks like a regular handsome middle-aged man with greying black hair. When viewed from relatively close, his skin has several slices throughout, and the reflective sheen of the inflexible ceramic material it's made of could not be mistaken. Dons any such variety of male medieval formal wear. Bio: History tells of a great human painter from more than a century ago. Henri Dominique Greene. His works, signed 'H.D.G.' at the back, still adorn the walls of Kindeance's castle. Portraits of old monarchs. Images of nature, oddly lacking for animals. A medical document stating that he began coughing out blood, whenever he painted animals who'd then come out alive from their canvases. A letter to the royal mage whom he courted and was later engaged to, informing of his decision to isolate from society. A second letter, an invitation to his funeral, held at the Greenes' mansion. None but the King have yet made the connection between that painter of old, and this non-painter who shares nearly the same name, aside from the surname of his true mother before the Greenes' adoption after her passing. Nowadays, he roams the kingdom as a mage and handyman, and, since very recently, lecturer to the prince. Traits: Golem Automaton - Inorganic body. Immune to physical pain. Immune to poison and disease. Immune to basic needs like food, water, air and sleep. Absorbs mana within close range. Converts most sources of energy into mana. Resistant to most forms of magic. Has a 30-foot radius of perception (via a low, constant emission of infrared; has a byproduct of perceiving temperatures) around his core's center of mass. Hears by picking up vibrations on those in contact with the core. Metal Sense - Can sense most metals and the global north direction. Not a spell. Artificial Qi Vessels - Spells only affect those under at most indirect physical contact. Skills: Eidetic Memory Lesser Occult - Limited knowledge on witchcraft and demonology. Arcane Aptitude (mastery, source) - Can mimic others' spells, given enough exposure or instruction. Spells: Telekinesis (innate) Temperature Increase (innate) Core Spreading (innate) - Injects a piece of his golem core into an object, qualifying the object as himself for the purposes of other spells. Lasts for up to 2 spells. Inorganic Repair (100%, Ember) Ward (2%, Scroll of Ward) Flash (0%, Scroll of Flash) Arcane Bolts (5%, Scroll of Arcane Bolts) Detect Magic (1%, Cedar) Enhance/Grow Vegetation (2%, Cedar) Ultravision (1%, Jazdia Crystalspark) Incorporeal Form (1%, Solomon Sparrow) Equipment: Bottle of a curious powder, small - Inflicts sneezing and nose blindness. Cedar's inventory - Dark brown and green 'holocaust cloak'/robes. Large wooden staff. Small hand axe. Small boot knife. Ball of twine. Antler knapping tool. Flints. Modified water barrel. Rope. Shovel. Crate of vodka bottles × 2 Crate of whiskey bottles × 1 Deck of cards - 52-card deck, made of cardboard, paste and paper. Henri's Eye × 2 - Enchanted orbs of ivory, used to see. Has to be within 3 meters of user. Iron kite shield Ironsword Family Medallion - Belongs to Matilda's birth father. Map to the ruins Metal flask - Mineral oil. Pocket watch Scroll of Ward × 3 Scroll of Flash × 3 Scroll of Arcane Bolts × 3 Other: Insides made of mostly iron. Black shoes with bronze soles. Loud clacking footsteps on hard surfaces. Keeps calling Cedar 'Cedrick'. Has never killed anyone. Yet.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "Of course, ma'am." Far beyond Anderson to question his dame's decision. While there's likely more things to be gleaned from the corpse, like how did he ended up dead here, it's not that hard to deduce the details. Must've wandered in at the wrong time and place, bless his unfortunate soul. He wasn't much comfortable having the dead up and speaking like they forgot they're dead. The squire watched with morbid fascination as Birk dug a grave for himself to lay in, not really sure at what point did he turn from undead into plain dead, but he'll take Solomon's words for it. He helped the necro-doctor bury the corpse, too. Daylight was waning quickly, this time of the year. "You can stay at the camp if you'd like, ma'am. We dont have much spare room, but if it's only for the night the men wont complain overmuch having to stuff in. On the other hand, your horses would've rested enough to take you back to the city. I'm sure the night watch wont make things difficult for you." Matilda was rather well known, and quite distinct to boot. As long as she's on the lead they'll let the group in no problem. "Ser Cedrick, you can leave the kits in the ruin and I'll have someone come collect it on the morrow. We'll take good care of the horses." Anderson noticed the druid's plight and offerend his assistance. These were fine horses, the guilt of their last riders shouldn't transfer to the animals.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Well, time to get absolutely wild. If the implication was proven the entire gang would be rounded up and executed anyway, so no need to spare the chaffs. It's probably mercy compared to what execution awaits for attempted regicide, so she'll be sure to properly send them off. The party started with a literal bang with about a third of the enemy ranks instantly vaporized. Way to go, boss! Cackling in amusement, Yvone jogged forward to meet the three opponents left. Was it fear or stupidity? They just saw about a third of their rank splattered into giblets and here they come. All rabble, too. Bad foorwork, overly wide swing, nowhere near enough attention to defense, and they're not pacing to keep up with each other. These were thugs at best, never even seen one remotely life-threatening fight in their sorry existence. They were taller with longer arms, but Yvonne's mace had better reach than their makeshift bludgeon so it evened out. At the fastest thug she swung straight up to the chin, the impact more felt than heard as his teeth jarringly knocked into each other before the overwhelming force shattered both the upper and lower jaws. One down, she pushed the thug lightly to send him crashing toward one of his friend. The next one came down on her, but a well-placed blow on the wrist fractured the bone and dropped the weapon. Before the pain caught up with him Yvonne brought the mace back down, on to the skull, where metal met bone and metal won. Red and white splashed in the general area, the body convulsed once, twice, before falling still. The third guy barely got up when Yvonne strode past, sweeping through his face with a two-handed swing. Another firework of red and white bloomed, this time the giblets tossed far off to paint a sizeable section of the courtyard. The first man wasn't dead yet but he's drowning in his own blood. In a small gesture of mercy, the mercenary draw her dagger and stabbed through his heart. And that's all done on her part. Barely take ten seconds. "Where next, boss?"</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword Matilda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, messing about in this fortress only achieved wasting their time. She wanted to ride off toward Hdur, but she did not know what would happen to her during the night. Although she could handle herself in a fight, there was something frightening about wandering out in the fortress. Having that corpse walking around did not help her anxiety. "We can rest here, and head for Hdur when the sun rises." She glared over toward Anderson. Even though she couldn't see her expression, he could tell she was staring at him. Sitting alone in another room, the room she was sitting in was partially open letting the moonlight fill half of the room. Resting up against a wall, her sword was standing near her upright. Taking off her helmet while taking a deep breath. Taking in the sound of the fauna outside. Her sense of tranquillity was disturbed by a noise coming from the other end of the room. Thinking it was some sort of creature hiding in the fortress, she gripped her sword hilt. "You know, you will never find him. He's as dead as ol Birk." The voice was familiar to Matilda, it was an entity born from her family's curse. Those who were unable to conquer the curse, ended up utterly insane. "Be silent, we will find the prince. I know he is still alive, it would not make any sense for the kidnappers to kill their hostage." She shook her head, as the eyes in the darkness seemed to roll in annoyance. "Highly unlikely, they could have off em. Could have killed him once they had run his course. I would ave loved to see what they would have done to him, cutting off his fingers and toes. Enjoying his squeals while they cut off his peter. All because you could not save him." The voice changed to the prince crying for Matilda to save him, before changing back to the voice laughing sadistically. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH CUR." Matilda screamed out, her voice echoing throughout the fortress. Her hand tightly gripped her sword. 'You should be searching for him right now, you would have a better chance of finding him yourself." The voice said which made Matilda shake her head. "I don't know if I could find him myself, which is why I have people helping me." She waved her hand back and forth. "Oh like that bumpkin bear, the necromancer, and that snooty tin man? They have done nothing to help your investigation. Tin man ditched you, and the other two were found squat except for talking to birds and dead bodies." The voice's voice was speaking to Matilda in a mocking manner. "They have been quite helpful, so don't underestimate their abilities. I believe in them.' This made the voice chuckle. "Ha, I highly doubt that. You would be better off without them, the rage is what get's things done. SMASH AND RIP." The voice seemed to disappear, its voice echoing in her ears. Matilda took the bottle of whiskey out, chugging the contents. Feeling a bit of her sanity starting to fade away.</s>

<|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. . Rascade, the evening before... Henri's abode. Located near the plaza and harbour. It's been quite a long time since he set foot near here again. It almost felt like a far longer time to just walk from the Constable's office to here. Two hours just pass by in a flash. At first glance, most people think this house is abandoned. Vines creep at the walls. Dust and cobwebs adorn the windows and roof skirts. Leaves, unswept, decorate the tiny lawn blocked by a short brick fence and a short iron gate. A remotely tall person could simply walk across it. The curtains behind the grated windows weren't closed, but peeking in would only reveal what seemed like an abandoned art studio. Canvasses of 'art' that could only be described as no more than random smears of colour. Scattered buckets of paint, and equally scattered brushes and graphite. An overall lack of furniture except for a sink, a fireplace, a single stool chair and a single table. Not a large family table, a small one for propping up bowls of fruits. A depressing, unlivable sight. The door oddly had no doorknob, no keyhole of the sort. The only lock mechanisms are placed on the inner side of the door, so to the outside, it looks boarded-up. It's made specifically so that only Henri could open it from the outside. He placed the liquor crates on the dusty floor and grabbed his chest. A few seconds later, he blew out a shot of fire -- the shot of whiskey from earlier. He didn't want to smell of liquor, even if he couldn't smell anything himself. Ah-- tch. He stepped on the embers left over on the floor by that trick. In his hurry to get rid of the liquor without prying eyes, he forgot to sell these crates to any possible establishment. He placed the whiskey crate on the fruit table, and carried the two vodka crates to the nearest establishment he could find. Angel's Share... Isn't that what you call evaporated liquor? They must know their stuff, right? The decoration looks like a brothel, too. Perfect. Henri knocked on the door. [...] ~ Present day, around three to four o' clock in the morning. He stayed all night on his roof, scoping the dimly lit streets, when he began spotting fires emerge, one by one. Is there an attack? [...] The huge lock on the equally huge reinforced wood gate seemingly opens on its own, with a loud clack. A man with a dusty black hooded cloak and a blunt old claymore walks in, and the door closes itself behind him. After taking in the sight that befell-- A fresh trace of an explosion and crushed glass, bodies scattered on the ground, Yvonne and Chounan brutally adding more of said bodies, and two others dressed the same but aren't exactly in the fight... The man casually walked forward towards their direction, pulling down the multiple layers of cloth that aimed to occlude his identity. "Huh... Are you really doing this with just the three of you? I half-expected the full might of His Highness' army to be here." Henri pulled a shield from under his cloak, then placing it on his back. He glanced at the bandit behind Jazdia. It's strange, it felt like his eyes lied to him as his golem perception showed something different. Something elegantly dressed, with animal ears and a thick tail. He squinted. "..." He averted his gaze awkwardly. Best to not ask, or tempt trouble.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. After being dismissed by His Highness and heading into the reception room, Henri leaned and whispered to Matilda as she reached the door. "Please introduce me to them in my stead, I have things to obtain first." He then proceeded to walk in a different direction than the rest. From this action, it would not be wrong to guess that Henri doesn't exactly approve of this team, possibly going so far as to believing that he could do this task on his own. Yet, he also knew that he wasn't exactly outward with his abilities, and wasn't even considered for this task until he personally asked for it. It might be too early to have notions of splitting away from them just yet. --- In front of the door of the Royal Mage's office. He knocks. "It's Henri. I need spells." Quite the curt request.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "I'll fetch up my prepared things from smith shop. Where are we gather to departure, Dame Matilda?" The black haired man with a demon mask and oriental attire finally speak with a calm tone of voice.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] The door to the office creaked outward, opening without any visible mechanism to reveal an... office. It had no window, with a mahogany bookshelf much larger than the door itself occupying every inch of the far wall. The desk of the Royal Mage was L-shaped that hugged the wall before abruptly turning to slice through the room, filled with various parchment with partially finished arcane scribbles and whatnot. It stood mere three feet from the door, and considering the arrangement of chairs already occupying space it left not much room for "guests" to stand at. Instead there's plenty of gap between the desk and the bookshelf where a haggard middle-aged woman in dark dress sat. Her own chair was obviously custom made, puffy and soft with leather cover and adjustable back and footrest. The entire edifice was tilted nearly ninety degree backward, where the groaning mage slowly straightened up as she took stock at the tutor. "Ser Henri, please take a seat. How may I assist you today?" Well-oiled clank subtly echoed as the sinfully comfortable chair straightened, allowing a full view of dark eyebags underneath bloodshot eyes. Days of running around performing various augury hadn't been kind to Duchess Antigone Steinwall, though her commitment to the crown outweighted back pain and sleep deprivation. Still, there's only so much a single woman could do.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The elven woman closed the door behind her with a fair amount of respect she could muster, deciding it would be in everyone's best interest to not anger the poor Fredricus even more by slamming the door. The chamberlain, however, looked very surprised when he saw her, showing a mix of confusion and fear as he scurried back to the King's chamber and make audible door noises in his entry. A series of angry yellings could be faintly heard afterward. Still leaning against the wooden railing, Jazdia observed the main hall below and focused her attention on the group. She saw a very pale man leaving the premises after exchanging words with the King's trusted Knight. Not a very... fleshy fella. Prosthetic? Animated doll? Golem? Before she managed to investigate further, the man had already headed to the east wing, far beyond the range of her vision. Investigate. She repeated the word under he breath. Looking at the records she swiped from Fredricus's desk and matching them with the personas below, Jazdia would soon find few of those documents were lamentable at best even an intern in the Delta Two could do better. Some track records were lacking, and the details about family, origin, and analysis, many were left blank. No one, for instance, bothered to type out the detail that two of the invitees were a decaying old man devoid of any living energy... and the other was a half-stone man. They, however, had a very thorough report about the druid, who apparently was not just a bipedal bear but also an offshoot offspring of an unholy union between an intelligent bear and a druid. They detained him a few weeks earlier and had him released just recently. The report somehow made Jazdia recall one of the bizarre accounts her apprentice Linea testified when she returned from a rescue mission in a remote misty village 10 years ago. Two other hirelings apparently had a certain connection with the royal court. The small woman was a scion of a failed clan, who might or might not have retained its status had this child didn't dwell too much in the art of severing heads and limbs and mindless carnage. The other guy, wearing oriental-styled armor, was an ex-royal knight, but for whatever reason took early retirement to join the Adventurers' Guild. He claimed to be a close friend of the king, but according to the report, did not present when the king was attacked, nor when a certain group ambushed and kidnapped the Prince. The reason for his absence was unknown. See, this was one of the glaring mistakes she mentioned earlier. This whole report lacked any presumptions of motive. A good intelligence service realized that it was their job to find the worst in every human being, to find a potential threat and a way to subdue it regardless of the accuracy of the allegation. There were too many unknowns in this report Jazdia partially believed it was filled by the invitees themselves. Jazdia normalized the color of her eyes and took a series of very regulated breaths as she walked down the stairs to regroup with everyone, not sure if any of them saw her on the balcony, but she greeted them regardless. "Greetings!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne had been itching to get a word in with Mattie at least, as the only individual in the team that she's remotely familiar with. The knight didn't seems to want to waste time though, and... what's that elf doing? Was that some documents from the king's desk? Well, guess that's one individual to pay attention to. Since the chamberlain rushed back in and hadn't came out screaming "the king is dead!" she probably didn't take the chance to murder ol' Freddy. Some old acquaintance, probably. Cant tell the knife-ears' age by their look. "Whoa, hold your horses a bit there Mattie." Called out the diminuitive mercenary, clapping quickly twice to gather attention. "I'm sure you've got good idea about everyone here and all, but the same ain't true yeah? We'd do better if we all know what to expect of each other." An idle hand went down to rest on the pommel of her sword, except that it wasn't there because they're temporarily confiscated before meeting the monarch. Yvonne smoothly changed the motion to rest akimbo at her hip. Unless everyone had received briefing but she somehow missed it, the sentiment should be shared by the rest of the hirelings.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar scratched his head at the tiny woman's anxious questions, looking up at the ceiling with his head cocked to one side absently. "OH---Well... Miss uh.... Whass-yername?.... " He looked at her and scratched harder, as if stumbling over some half-remembered lesson in interpersonal etiquette, before his ears popped forward as if remembering something suddenly. "Oh, er-- Right-- Muh name's Cedar, and I's is half-bear-- and I's can talk ta lil' woodlan' critters, and get plants ta grow real big, real fast an' such. Got a good nose too. Paps says I's a good tracker, an' has me help 'im hunt down sick an' injured critters to help makes em better again-- OH-- yeah-- I's can help fix up cuts an scratches an stuffs like 'at there." He made a friendly motion toward the woman less than half his posture for her to introduce herself, and her skills. "An, You are, Miss?...."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Ah, rude of me not to introduce myself first innit?" Yvonne took a good stock at the hulking bear of a man, who somehow managed to make himself looks tiny despite being twice her height and probably four times as heavy. Really, if you want people to take you seriously then half of it was the way you present yourself. As it stand now, anyone remotely unsavory would hardly think twice before trying to take advantage of this Cedar, the number would've dropped dramatically if he carried himself with a wee bit more confidence. As for the other half? Why, that's simply the ability to crush anyone who stand between you and whatever your goal is. "Yvonne, some fellas call me Mad Blade but dont take too deeply into it yeah?" She didn't pick fights unprovoked. Usually. "I'm good at putting things down, man and beast alike. One of the best you can find these days if you'd excuse a lil' bit of bragging. If there's a fight to be had point me that way and it'll be settled nice and dandy, yeah?"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar turned his head the other way, and his ears went forward, with a bewildered expression on his eyes. He looked down at her. Appraised her size. Looked again. "Ya know-- Some critters is pretty durn big... I don't doubt ya, but fer the most parts, critters jus' wants ta bluff ya into thinkin' twicet-- Dont really proper want ta start up a fight unless yer messin' em up, or screwin' round wit' der kids or summat... --Then you better watch out-- Mama'll fuck ya up... Why you go around killin' critters fer nohow? They usually ain't doin' nuttin' ta nobody anyhoo..."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Hmm, okay. That's better. Looks like the critter talk was more in Cedar's element than whatever's going on in the castle. Yvonne shrugged at the inquiry, it's supposedly obvious but then again Cedar sounded like he'd been living in the middle of nowhere for his entire life before stumbling in here somehow. "To be fair, it's mostly men." For every job involving wild beasts, there's at least ten that involved brigands and whatnot. "I ain't get paid to ask questions, but if someone's willing to fork the coins to have them dead they've probably caused an issue somewhere."</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's face seemed to become rather sad and withdrawn. "Aww... Dat's a shame... Lotsa people seems ta think critters is just simple things as just does whatever likes they don' gots feelin's nor wants, nor dreams a dere own or nuthin... But they does.. They does... " His expression became a little sterner, and cheekier shortly after though. "People's a diffren' story though. Lots a people is right assholes at gots 'der heads jammed up betwix der damn legs, smellin' there own farts all day. I's has had ta deal with more an' muh fair share o-em muhself, but is usually them darn logger fellas as thinks I's dumb or summat. Might be young, but not born yest'rday-- thinkin theys can pull a fast-one on me. Paps says not to bean em in the head with muh stick, as that'd knock em dead as hell-- just wrap em up real good and remind em that we's aint playin' no games with em, and that they's needs ta stay on their side an' such..." He scratched his chin, and looked up at the ceiling again. "Though, I s'ppose em fellers 'd be willin' ta pay a person like yaself ta try an' do a feller like me in, now's I think about it...." He looked at her with a sparkle in his eyes, and a bit of a wry smirk. "If'n I's ya, I'd be a bit more keen on askin' questions, afore sayin' "yes" on some o' dem jobs people's wants done, if'n ya knows what I mean. I's can fuck a kid up what good, if'n they tryin' ta cut up muh hide--- A fair bit more dang'rous than yer normal bear, if'n ya gets muh drift."</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. "That... does make sense. Thanks." Henri felt slightly more confident about his position in the group. He made sure not to visibly display his disappointment as Antigone pulled out what could be considered disposable. Essentially, these are magic scrolls, aren't they? He could already feel how much longer it'd take for him to reverse-engineer this and add it to his spellset. Unless... Is it as easy as just redrawing the diagram itself? Henri carefully took the tome out of Antigone's hands, shook her hand and stood up. "Ah, nothing else. Thank you for assisting me, Your Grace. I'll be going now." Just before closing the door... "Please take care of your health." --- Disassembling the book into its rawest parts. The metal parts, melted and absorbed into him; the bound leather shredded and fused into his clothing. Then, he placed the sheets of parchment into his torso cavity, save for one of the Ward scrolls. This should be the safest to analyze on the way, although, this ink... It could be seen glowing in the shadowy parts of this hallway. Damn. He hoped he wouldn't have to procure this unknown special ink just to cast this spell beyond these scrolls. A detour. Instead of taking the stairs, Henri instead came out of the window and began sliding down the wall at a safe pace, casting Telekinesis on himself and maintaining friction with the wall with his left hand and shoes. He placed the Ward scroll along with the rest of the parchments in his torso. None of the diagram made sense to him anyway, he could only rely on how the mana is being converted during usage. Wait, is that Matilda? The rest, as well. He was correct to intuit that they'd be heading towards the stables, but he didn't quite expect it to be this soon. Henri hopped off the wall once he got five feet near the ground, and briskly walked up to them then matched their pace. "Hello. Are we heading out already?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark I assume you would like to know what the first step is? Firstly, I want to investigate the last known area where the prince was seen. He went on a hunting party with the Vessier, along with some guards. I assume that Cedar and maybe Henri, could smell or find any clues the investigators may have missed. Matilda was about walk towards the entrance, but realizing that Jazdia was not following her, she turned. "Well?" The elf sighed. This orc woman apparently was a stranger to a saying that patience is a virtue. When Jazdia heard her uttering the word 'prince' she wondered what in the Terra she was thinking. Prattling about the plan on her way to the stable so every unfriendly eye and ear can see and hear? So far there had been too many elements being overlooked and it was rather concerning, but for the sake of decency, and solidarity of this motley crew, she did not bother to explain. "That was an astute plan. Madam. But could I offer you my view about how we organize this event?" This event. Organize. Jazdia reread the documents and tried to remember as much as she can. Then, in an effort to put another failsafe, she continued. "I agree that Mister Cedar would be a great help to design a venue that will meet the standard for ecological sustainability. Also to ensure that any undesirable 'animals' are to be kept out or handled in a proper manner. Mister Solomon can provide medical assistance for both the organizer and... those who are already there." Jazdia shot a glance toward the young woman who seemed too occupied with flaunting her killing ability to the bear-man. Not sure if they could hear her, but she continued anyway. "For security details, you can entrust that task to young miss Yvonne as well as giving her the responsibility to provide questions and answers should our contestant have doubts. As for mister Henry, I am sure you have your own consideration." Jazdia flipped the documents again down to the most decorated one. "To ensure the success of this event. I offer my service to survey possible guesthouses for our contestants. For that, I will need Mister... uhh... Chounan's assistance to aid me in navigating the Rascade, and also his position as the representative of the Adventurers Guild will prove useful for security details. With the current situation, I am sure you understand we need that now more than ever." Throwing another fake smile, Jazdia lowered the document and made a mental note of what she just said, expecting Matilda to do the same. "Needless to say what we discuss here is confidential. It would be unfair if some contestants got wind of our plan and have an early start". That was all of her plans. And Jazdia emphasized that she would do her part in her own way. "We will meet at the Village of Hdur. Assuming everything went smoothly. What a lively bunch of misfits we are." Jazdia tapped Matilda's pauldroned shoulder and immediately regretted it. Despite a bit of pain in her palm, she still maintained her cordial attitude, for now. "Mister Henry! Glad you could join us!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito chuckled as he watched Jazdia's futile attempt to get past the guard. She tried to boss him around in her usual stern manner but the man was having none of it. It was clear that he took his position as royal guard very seriously and that he would not bulge in the face of the fiery elf. Jazdia certainly had her skill set but for this kind of task she was less suited. Getting past the guard would require someone with charm, social intellect and being good at telling lies. Quickly the fox nudged the elf aside and gave her the most disappointing look he could muster. "No! That is not how you talk to an honored knight, tasked with protecting our glorious king, miss Jazdia!" Spoke Kaito in a belittling tone as he pretended to be angry at her. Quickly Kaito turned towards the guard and made a deep bow while infusing his words with his charm magic that would make him more susceptible to his suggestions. "No need to get agitated. My deepest apologies sir for the behavior of my partner. She spoke out of turn." Kaito moved closer to the man and whispered "A new gal, got the job just yesterday. She's tagging along so that she can learn the ropes. She's got a pretty face and all but no skill. You know how that goes when old men are in charge, right?" Kaito extended his hand and spoke swiftly. "Geito Brown, chronicler of the Helvetian Daily Horn. We would like to hear the great tale of how our glorious king Fredericus and his royal guards gallantly fended off the ambush, publish it for all of Rascade to read and document this tale for the annals of history. I am sure that just this tale will cement the legacy of King Fredericus and his brave knights for all of eternity." 'Geito Brown' paused a bit as he looked at the guard before placing his hand on his shoulder, lowering his tone and letting his bewitching words sink deeper into the guard's consciousness. "Perhaps you were there my friend and could give us a first hand account of the events? I can already see the headline 'King Fredericus and you fend off the Mechian attack and save Kindeance from peril. That does have a nice ring to it, don't you think?" The fox paused and smiled. "Perhaps we can help each other out here like friends do. I can put out a good word for you and the boys. Make them part of the publication and get the story of their great deeds out. You and your pals certainly deserve some of the spotlight, don't you think? All you have to do is let us in so that we can get the details right. That way we all win. Sounds like a plan, don't you think?"</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. An unusual fletching, huh... Henri pulled one of the brown-feathered arrows and placed it in his left arm after breaking it in half due to its length. He exhaled, as he metal-sensed the rest of the arrows. "These are just regular arrowheads..." Nothing traceable about them except these feathers. Throughout this walk, he couldn't find anything else even with his metal-sense and thirty-foot perception. Anderson and the men under him must've already swept this place several times over. One could wonder what Matilda was thinking of when he recommended Henri to help in the matter of procuring evidence; he was pretty sure he submitted his application as a combatant and some sort of backup blacksmith for their equipment...</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The guard shook his head, feeling a surge of recollection as the man Geito introduced himself and stated his business. Suddenly he felt he had seen this man before, but couldn't point where and when exactly. Before he realized it, his expression softened, and every word this Gaito uttered sounded reasonable, trustworthy, and... lucrative. Surely there was no harm in letting a few newsmakers have a look around, wasn't it? "Mr Geito, I really want to help but. Orders are orders, you see. Constable Delving will not tolerate any breach of rules." He glanced at the approaching guard. Then back at the group, particularly at the elf, who was now sidelined and steaming hot. It was an entertaining sight to behold. He bite his lips and continued. "Let's help each other yeah? How about you show me any form of identification? So I can put your name on the record. Then I can let you and your friends in." He waved at his friends and shouted. "It's all right, they are just tourist!"</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Royal Hunting Forest, Kindeance --- Solomon raised an eyebrow, not that anyone could accurately see it. Anderson mentioned that the Princes schedule was only know by a select few of castle staff. That potentially narrowed the list of informants the assassins could be using, bring them close to finding the culprit. Not only that, but if they had the prince's schedule, that would also explain the King's and how coordinated the attack was. Solomon pondered the information more. At least six assailants fleeing in four directions, leaving false tags to throw off search dogs. "The coordination between both attacks is too wall calculated. I suspect that someone who works directly with the prince, or someone who works in close association is your traitor. While you may have come to that conclusion, the information must have been accurate until the event itself. This person of interest may still be at the castle, and if not those who left would be worth questioning." said Solomon. While at the moment, he could not contribute much, he contemplated whether it was time to call upon those who were more skilled in this area. At the least he could do another sweep of the area from a more birds eye view which might reveal something. It was unfortunate that the dead had been taken away, otherwise Solomon could have asked them what happened directly. "Cedar. It might not be conventional, yet I witnessed you speak with the dogs and birds. I have a question for you. If you would speak with one of the horses who was intimately involved with the conflict, would that enlighten us to any new information?"</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito smiled at the guard as everything was going according to plan. Just like most other humans, the man in front of him was an easy prey for the kitsune's magic. It was a mild nuisance that he was still demanding some form of identification but that was something kaito could easily fix with his illusion magic. "Wonderful. It is always great when friends are helping each other out." Spoke the fox while grabbing a piece of illusionary parchment from one of the pockets of his coat. With a swift move of his hand he rolled the piece down, showing his 'Geito Brown' name, some text about being licensed by the royal court to gather and record news and some official looking seal. Of Course when someone would study the seal he would find that there were a lot of details off. That is why Kaito only showed the illusion for a split second. Just enough time to get the general details but not long enough to study them up close. "I'm sure this will do." The guard took a quick look and nodded "I'm looking forward to the story mister Brown" Kaito turned towards his companions and noticed the fury in Jazdia's eyes. The fox might have pushed it a bit to far with the notion that she got the job due to her pretty face. However now was not the time to comtemplate about that. The truth was that they didn't have all day. Eventually the charm effect on the guard will wear off and he might realize that 'Geito Brown' had done some funky business. It was better to wrap things up in the cemetery before that would happen. "Chop chop people. The news doesn't write themself and there are deadlines to be made you know." commanded Kaito as he spurred the party on. Quickly Kaito walked past the guard with the rest in tow. When he was sure that there was enough distance between the group and the guards he turned towards the elf. "We're in, so what's the plan Jaz?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" There should be some kind of magical bullshit at work here, because the guardsman's vigilance was slipping like a pebble rolling downhill. And the fact that she couldn't remember any sort of credentials given to the fox, yet there he went flashing one like it's the most natural thing in the world. Yvonne kept with the party, the corner of her lips twitching as she had to hold back a cackle. Why, Sparky was practically smoldering there. She's looking forward to the time they're leaving the premise later. "Geito" squirming and weaseling out of the hole he dug himself should be an entertaining sight. "Good luck, mate." She patted the aforementioned fox's shoulder, flashing a brief grin. Then back to the job. "How long do we have?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Plan? Oh, she had a lot of plans alright! Strangling this Fox demon and carving the word Civet on his forehead using a flaming arrow was totally not one of them, honest! Maintaining enough dignity to not hiss, she answered. "Why, of course, mister Geito," Despite the apparent sarcasm, that pseudonym irked her more than it should Jazdia had to fight the impulse to incinerate the document along with the fox youkai in front of her. "Why don't we start with keeping up with the deception?" beseeched Jazdia in a calm tone, yet her mannerism suggested she was about to feed Kaito the documents she was now giving. "Go get your story from those soldiers and compare their testimony with the report." Then, without any threat or violent misconduct, she left, walking down the path leading to the mausoleum. As much as she hated it when the guard leered at her no thanks to Kaito's unnecessary remark, she had to keep it cool. It was all just a part of the job, nothing personal. There would be plenty of chances to get even with that crafty fox. Just wait... "How long do we have?" asked the Rosenving daughter as she catched up with Jazdia. The elf stopped at the tile that had a faint yellowish stain, taking her time to kneel before answering the question. "Until that guard realizes we are pulling the wool over his eyes. Probably will take a while." She stroked the powdery compound, it smelled like sulfur, and there were some metal fragments residing in the withering grass. The casing of a smoke grenade? Quite a high-quality one it seemed. Bandits usually encase them with buffalo skin, and they didn't produce smoke in the intensity enough to make trained royal guards break their formation. According to the report, after an assailant had his head split open by Matilda and the other killed by Fredricus himself, their priority was to quickly evacuate the king out of the smoke screen. The third assassin tried to shoot the escaping monarch with a poisonous arrow, but Matilda deflected it with her shield. It seemed the orc woman wasn't so slouchy she lunged at the ranged assassin at neck-breaking speed and literally broke his neck, face and all against the nearest vertical surface she could find. A nasty blood stain on the chapel wall confirmed this account. Jazdia briefly activated her eyes. "Miss Rosenving, would you mind to look at the hedge near the tree?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "We didn't find anything belonging to the kidnappers, sans the arrows." Given enough time they'd probably try recover that too, but perhaps going into a prolonged shootout wasn't in their plan and they ended up firing more than it's possible to clean up. Anderson really wished he had more things to show, but there had been minimum development for the past five days. "With all due respect ma'am, the timing coincides too much with the attack on the king." Interjected the squire. They didn't wait and strike at the most opportune time. This was a coordinated strike. "Rorthgaard? I'll have people look into it." And at the order of moving out, Anderson took out a rolled up parchment map from a tube. It depicted an area of the forest, the map itself a precious thing yet as it stood it's filled with scribbled markings. A section of it was lightly greyed out with a pencil, and there's an X somewhere near the edge of it. "We've combed the greyed area so far." The marking splayed like stubby zig-zag roots, indicating the trails left behind by the kidnappers. Two of them were much longer than the rest. "These two were duds, we found the boot in here. They're not making it easy to follow either."</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri exhaled. It should be noted that he really does not need to breathe, but this is exasperating. Sure took Matilda her sweet time to speak up. So these arrows are special after all? Additionally, where did that map come from? This guy... Had he not the initiative to show us that from the start? Henri at least felt a relief that Matilda looked steeled to pursue these footprints further and instead leaving Rorthgaard to these minions, but is everyone glossing over the fact that Cedrick mentioned about the escaped horses? Henri raised a hand. "Matilda. Let's split from here. Cedrick and I will track down the escaped horses." If it's as the man-bear says, he could talk to them and find out where they're stabled, and the horses might be saddled up with important items as well. This endeavor shouldn't be a problem with the both of them. Their speeds could easily outpace any horse. "Mind giving Cedrick something that carries your scent? Also," Henri taps Matilda's shoulder, casting Core Spreading on her shoulderplate. A streak of cyan lightning appears briefly on it. "I'll be able to hear you when you're nearby." A small pool of molten iron wells up from Henri's hand, preparing to drop them sparingly on the ground as breadcrumbs.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chōnan kept an eye on the demon fox until leaving on his range. He remain his position nearby Jazdia without being an obstacle on her. As the time running out, he decided to help Jazdia with the clues. He approached Yvonne and said. "Milady, I shall give you a hand." She paused for a while and nodded. Her identity is familiar by him despite she doesn't know him back. Adventurer's Guild assassins spreaded rumors about her and also they had admiration with her work. Also, an exchange letter between him and the prince back then about being kept mention her name, possibly his childhood crush may say. The hedge seems to be a good route for the victim to fled off from the assassin, maybe he can find something around under the range of the area that Miss Jazdia's mentioned. He removed his shoes and attached it on his sliding line of his bag. Finding some luck by using his sense of touch of his bare feet inside the grassy yard.</s> <|message|>Kaito "I see, thank you for the information. It will surely help with documenting the events here. May your fallen comrades feast in the hall of the gods for all eternity." With those words Kaito finished up the interrogation of the young guard. The fox went on to talk to some of the other guards but they all gave similar answers for the ones that were around during the attack. There were some points in the testimony from the guard that the kitsune found intriguing. First and foremost was the point that all guards seem to refer to the assailants as Mecheans and yet the official report never stated that fact. The kitsune assumed that the authors of the official report also questioned the guards on site and yet somehow omitted their testimony about the assailants being Mecheans from the report. Did the guards not share that information or was it kept out on purpose? A question that certainly needed to be answered. There were some more details from the guard's testimony that did not match up with the report. The report never talked about any casualties among the guards, also the report explicitly stated that the king was around till the smoke went off and yet the guard mentioned that madame Mathilda immediately escorted the king back to the palace. Also the guard spoke about the assassins disappearing into thin air while the report mentioned them escaping in the crowds. There were too many discrepancies between the testimony of the guard and the official report that drew suspicion. Someone seemed to be lying. After finishing up the questioning of the guards Kaito walked back to Jazdia. For a moment the kitsune played with the idea of calling her by a nickname again but decided that he had infuriated the elf enough already. Pushing her buttons a bit more would be asking for more trouble than he could handle. "Miss Yazdia, got a minute or are you busy?" Spoke the fox with the sweetest smile he could muster. "Who wrote the official report? There are a lot of differences between what the guards told me and what was written down. It's pretty suspicious in my opinion. We might have to look into that a bit further." Spoke Kaito in a more serious tone. He paused a bit before he continued to speak. "The little pipsqueak guard over there had some interesting quotes about what the assassins shouted. Apparently one of them yelled death to the Marauder-king. Do you think that the Mecheans are blaming Fredericus for the shit his grandpa pulled? Or does the beloved king of Kindeance has some dark secrets?" As Kaito was informing the elf on the further differences between the testimony of the guards and the guards he brought up one more subject. "The guard mentioned that someone shouted 'By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!' after the smoke went up and just before a blinding flash that made the last assassins disappear into thin air. It seems that the Black Serpant guild might be playing some role in this."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "All right, move aside you two!" Jazdia winced, trying to hide her frustration as she leaned forward and rustle the hedge. She didn't even use her power to find what they were supposed to be looking for. Buried inside the hedgerows was a fletched shaft almost broken in two pieces. Its head telescoped inward, damaged to the point it was more like a piece of blunt metal, a sign of a heavy impact. Jazdia looked at the surrounding elevation and pictured where the archer was supposed to be. If the first archer was an amateur. The other one seemed to be more... professional? "This arrow was fired from a full-sized long bow and gained full momentum before hitting Matilda's shield." mused the elf, muttering the conjecture to anyone who was willing to listen. "It could only be done with sufficient range. Was that from the rampart on the left side? Or the terrace near the mausoleum? One thing for sure though, It was not something you can shot in the crowd." Before anyone could answer that, Kaito rejoined them. "Miss Yazdia, got a minute or are you busy?" Surprisingly Jazdia did not correct the mispronunciation of her name, something she usually took very seriously. "Not at all. What did they tell you?" "Who wrote the official report? There are a lot of differences between what the guards told me and what was written down. It's pretty suspicious in my opinion. We might have to look into that a bit further." Spoke Kaito in a more serious tone. He paused a bit before he continued to speak. "The little pipsqueak guard over there had some interesting quotes about what the assassins shouted. Apparently one of them yelled death to the Marauder-king. Do you think that the Mecheans are blaming Fredericus for the shit his grandpa pulled? Or does the beloved king of Kindeance has some dark secrets?" "Not as dark as those Tretagor monarchs during their heyday, but Kindeance was a militaristic country a century ago. The usual rape, pillage, and burn were one of their modus operandi. One hundred years was quite a long time for a country to change its ways, but not long enough to mend the scars, and sometimes it festers and I think that's how..." After what seemed to be a full minute of troubling thoughts, she continued. I don't know who wrote that. Could be Fredricus's spymaster. It was very common for a report to be written anonymously. Suspicious? Not really at the first glance since that kind of documentation usually redacts a number of crucial detail for political reasons." And that was why CSA was so good at their job, they didn't have to deal with such hogwashery on daily basis. "Still though, if the missing details are in a very abnormal number, there might be a schemer." Jazdia chuckled. "Classic. But I don't think Fred was that stupid to let potential usurpers any closer to his neck. So, tell me the glaring differences you've found so far." Kaito then explained about the casualties being redacted from the report, and Fredricus's involvement was somewhat embellished. The usual stuff. The part about Meche and the origin of those assailants was interesting, to say the least. So someone was trying to stir up the hearts of the people. For the better or for the worse. "What else can you tell me?" "The guard mentioned that someone shouted 'By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!' after the smoke went up and just before a blinding flash that made the last assassins disappear into thin air." "Another omitted details huh..." "Yes, It seems that the Black Serpant guild might be playing some role in this." The theory that someone inside his circle was betraying him sounded even more plausible now. Jazdia approached the mausoleum, trying to see what secret it contained, but her eyes failed her. "Warding runes?" he scoffed, finding it ironic how ancient runes, one of the subjects she despised so much during her college days was proven relevant to not only ward off evil spirits but also be able to repel her power. "I Guess Serensiel was evil after all." So she diverted her attention around the space that was supposed to be the mausoleum's interior and found there was a passage down there, almost ruined and caved, but definitely still passable. Suddenly everything seemed to make more sense. "After the failed attempt, they threw the smoke to cover their escape... or someone messed up and throw it prematurely, causing the other assassins to abandon their mission and retreat." "So that was how they escaped. Pretty clever huh?" She scanned again, this time around the twelve monuments. Whoever buried down there had been reduced to ashes, leaving empty stone caskets and other funerary goods. There was no hidden passage from any of those graves, so that left mausoleum as the prime access, and although she could not examine the interior, she concluded that the passage was linked to it somehow. "Where did that tunnel lead to? Unfortunately, it was beyond the range of my empowered sight." "How did they gain access to the catacombs? It was unimaginable to leave such an important building unlocked." "Did they steal the key? No... Fredricus would have called a manhunt, secrecy be damned."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "I dun' need anythung as smells like em' dipshits-- i's the dogs as needs at--- Yas can fin' a splotch er two o'er yonder... Not that yas can see it 'spose... If'n ya wants ta track the idjiots as napped the boy, I keen help with tellin' the dogs-- but I's agrees with the funny white man on thisa one." Cedar rumbled. "If'n we split up, we's can cover more ground. Miss Matilda keen take the doctor an' Mr Anderson an his dogs to chase down the idjiots-- This feller an' me can go track down the missin' horses. We kin catch up la'er." Cedar paused for a moment, as if contemplating an impossible task, before attempting to emulate Anderson's whistle, and failing miserably. He tried again several times. "Gull-darnit-- Mr Anderson, kin ya call the boys o'er agin? I ain't ne'er been able ta do 'at... --On accounta muh mouth looks like 'is-" Cedar pointed to his face then opened his mouth wide, revealing a rather frightening compliment of very sharp, meat tearing teeth with gaps between them where they would meet when closed. There were differences with what a keen observer would identify as being 'properly bear'-- false molar surfaces lined the insides of the last 4 incisors, before the real molars, indicating his human parentage-- but in all other ways, that mouth was "Decidedly Bear", with a dark colored and corrugated roof, a long and slightly purple tongue, and a long narrow shape. It was decidedly not suited to whistling in any capacity. Anderson made a bemused wince and shook his head, then put his fingers in his mouth and whistled. Once more the dogs bounded up in a jumble of excited bawling, drooling, and tail wagging. "Your show Master Cedrick" chuckled the man with a smirk. "Thank'ya kindly Mr Anderson" retorted Cedar with his own. After a few minutes with the dogs looking between Cedar and Anderson confusedly, he led them off to various parts of the scene, pointing out the particular scent they should be tracking. Anderson knew they had picked it up when they made their characteristic 'alert bawling' and animated pouncing with false starts down the trail. They were indeed good boys, and had not been given the signal to track, but eagerly wanted to. Satisfied that the dogs knew what to hunt down, Cedar walked back up to the congregation in that lumbering shuffle of his, with the dogs trotting behind. As he reached where Anderson and the others were standing, they made furtive looks and whimpers between Anderson and the area Cedar had indicated, amid tail wags and excited eyes. "'ere-- At'll do it. I got's muh own trail ta follow, ifn' we gunna fin' dem horses." Cedar smiled, and probably shouldn't have. It looked more like an aggressive display than a grin. Only the alert posture of his ears gave it away as something different, besides his body posture and chuckling. " 'is Way Mister Henri!" he chuckled, swinging his big head in the direction of preferred travel. He had already scoped out a good portion of the scene, and between it and what he remembered of his interview with the bird, he had a good idea which way to go. The horse tracks would almost assuredly all re-converge into a single path at some point, but it would save time to take the most likely and most direct set of tracks, which headed West. -------- (some time later) -------- Cedar's tracking of the animals took a meandering path through the trees, then over a clearing beside a rather lovely lake. The horses were together, but spread out just enough to be little shits about being caught, grazing on the grass leisurely. They did not really seem to appreciate Cedar initially either, acting spooky and stupid-- taking off with snorts, flagged tails, and farts amid squealing neighs to trot away from him repeatedly before he managed to finally get though their thick dumb heads that he wasn't there to eat them. They were robust, if squat little animals (to his perspective anyway), between 1.1 and 1.6 meters to the tops of their backs. Far too small for somebody like him to ride-- but maybe Henri could use one. Some of the animals had managed to get their saddles and other tack free of themselves-- tearing the straps that had held them on, via aggressive rubbing and 'clever' use of low lying tree limbs. Thankfully it was fairly conspicuous and easily located in or near the offending foliage. The saddles and gear that were still in place were encrusted in dried grass and mud, from where the animals had tried to roll in the soft earth near the lake. It would take a whole day for each saddle to get them clean again. One of the horses was clearly the Venerer's, given its very different livery. Cedar was glad it had made it, and the horse itself was surprisingly happy that its 'person' had survived the frightening encounter. Cedar liked 'happy endings.' It took a reasonably long time to rifle through the contents of 6 horses worth of saddle bags. Most of the contents were camping supplies and 'abduction kit'-- Ropes, cloth gags, and small bottles of a curious powder that made Cedar's nose tickle, before making him go nose-blind. Lots of sneezing and boogery snorts later, it slowly started to return, but the momentary disability worried and troubled him-- He worried that the dogs might run into such an obstacle. Perhaps it was for the best that the abductors had been cut off from their supply. Henri did not act like he found the sight of Cedar having a snotty sneeze attack at all amusing. If anything, he looked rather put off by it, and recoiled a bit when Cedar located, then proceeded to try and offer the last item he dug out of this latest bag. Among the miscellaneous odds and ends of camping and abduction kit, there was a curious bit of parchment, emblazoned with a map with a curious X on it. The map depicted a lake, not unlike the one they were currently next to, with what looked like some ruins in a marsh to the south, with the ruins clearly indicated. " 'ere-- *(SNORT)* -- 'Ave a look at 'is--"</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri grabbed the map, cross-referenced it with the lake, and figured out their heading. This has to be where Young Master is kept, right? No... This is probably a mere meeting point at best. Five days removed from the incident, there's probably nothing left in it to check. It wouldn't quite hurt to look though, being this close by. If there's any danger, he's confident in his own abilities. A bear of his size should be no slouch in combat either. Henri thinks of this, unknowing of Cedrick's age or actual combat experience. "We should swing by it. Just us two. I don't quite feel like calling on Matilda and the others, they're far away at this point." At worst, they'd be hindrances that Henri would have to protect or struggle to coexist in battle with. At best, he'd have wasted their time for nothing, after already having agreed to split up. Having already memorized the map due to his eidetic memory, he hands the map back to Cedrick and basically wills the items to sort themselves onto the mat that unfurled itself from previously being a saddle bag. Metals rolled on the right, and non-metals found themselves on the left. "We should sort all of this out first, though. Which one's yours, mine, or evidence. For starters," he grabs one of the small bottles of unknown powder. A potent irritant, seeing how affected Cedrick was by just a whiff of it. This should serve useful in the future, somehow. A force of habit. Henri drank from his metal flask that he pulled from inside his jacket, remembering the lake and the possible moistness of the air near it and the eventual marsh.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Distance isn't an issue, I know men that could pull trick shots with longbows. They just need an elevated vantage points... I'd put archers on top of the mausoleum if I have the time, but otherwise they'll just need to scramble on top of the tombstones." "I don't think they were on the top of the mausoleum. But you are right. One archer stayed near its door, shooting at Fred effortlessly because nobody was there to guard it. One archer moved closer to ensure his arrow hit the mark, which wasn't served him well in the end. Four flankers came from the crowd, providing distraction and an element of surprise. It should had been a sound plan if someone didn't lose their nerve and throw the smoke, messing up the archer's aim. When they realized that Matilda and her lackeys were unmatched in melee combat and the King himself was no pushover, they retreated before the smoke dispersed and nobody at that time had any inkling on how and to where they escaped." Jazdia wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Nobody huh?" She tried to bypass the runic warding again and could only see a little bit more of that door. Apparently, it was the classic Tretagorian locking mechanism where the door can only be opened by the key with identical runes. Now here was the neat part; it can be opened from the inside with a lever. An old-age design in case the beloved ones resurrected on the seventh day like ancient messiahs, or simply to minimize accidental entombment... "So somebody was waiting for them behind the door, and the challenge code was 'By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!'" Meanwhile at the front gate, an officer could be seen reprimanding his subordinate. "You fool! There is no such thing as Helvetian Daily Horn!" lashed a blonde man wearing a decorated cuirass and iron gauntlets. His voice thundered like an old god described in an ancient manuscript, and rightfully so as a captain with power over his men. Tall and imposing, every aspect of his action bespoke absolute authority the guard in front of him looked like a child playing a tin man, and when his eyes fixed on the group, they glowed in immeasurable ire. "I will see you at the brig!" he raised his index finger at that poor guard then stormed off. His stompings on the paved path did very little to hide his exasperation with the situation, but the man tried to appear professional; His posture was straight, and his face showed no unnecessary emotion save the tranquil rage in his eyes. When Jazdia faced the man, he asked sternly: "Good afternoon. May I insist you to explain your business in our sacred ground?" Watch out, this sounded like a question that could earn you a one-way trip to Rascade dungeon if answered incorrectly.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. "Alright, just roar if anything comes up. I'll follow you from a distance" Alright. Time to sort out the items from the saddlebags, and then Cedar's items. It's quite interesting, looking at how similar Cedar's inventory is to these kidnappers. Hand axes, knives, these... If he remembers correctly, these are called knapping tools? He himself quite never saw his need for these things used to create sharp stone tools. After all, he's able to pull a sizable supply of iron from within his own body. Cedar... Right, Matilda did call him Cedar, didn't she? Henri shrugged, realizing that he misassumed that his name is Cedrick because he once heard that Yvonne girl call her 'Ceddy'. That man Anderson was calling him Cedrick too, most likely because of Henri. Yet, he felt no obligation to fix this mistake. He will just let it be, as a tiny future source of hilarity. After melting the unnecessary metal tools and throwing away the saddle bags, sackcloths, and any non-metal parts of the knapping tools; he began equipping Cedar's gear with much care. The cloak of a 9-feet-tall bear is expectedly too long for his normal human size, and so he wrapped it partway on his neck like a thick scarf. His hand axe and knife are then sheathed on the right hip. His flints, placed in the left pocket. His leather-wrapped knapping tools, attached to his left hip. His rope, slung to his right shoulder. His ball of twine... This is quite an unusually-shaped item, this ball of twine. He reached for Cedar's barrel and attached a diagonal rod to the side of it, and hung the ball of twine onto it. He then wore the barrel on his back. It's good that they added this leather harness to it, turning it into quite a bulky backpack. Finally, his oversized boots and gloves are simply worn directly, even on top of his own shoes, and he'll just hold Cedar's shovel in the open and his big stick as a walking stick, he supposes. Henri began to walk, following Cedar from a huge distance as he said.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Placidly padding along, the big lumbering form of the bear-man slowly made its leisurely way first up along the edge of the lake, to collect the tiny shriveled black berries that had been overlooked by the birds last winter from amidst the dangerous coils of prickles that were known as "GreenBriar." Birds and deer subsisted on the things during the winter months, as the perennial vine was semi-evergreen, and kept foliage on even in the winter-- or so his dad told him. He had never seen it himself. Whenever the weather started getting cold, the urge to go to sleep became overwhelming, and without even realizing it, he would just wake up several months later in time for spring. The nasty little vines would serve their purpose quite well here, and would be a buffet for the birds this winter. Deer did not really like wading through the marshes, though he supposed the ice and snow would harden it up well enough for them to consider foraging among the ruins this winter. Tucking quite a number of the shriveled little black bastards into the small pouch he had retained, and laced to the inside of his right arm, he had long since begun his long, shuffling and investigatory plod all around the ruins. There WERE a few edible roots and small fish hidden among the muck, and he was still very famished from his stay in the dungeon. It didn't hurt any to actually play the part he was 'pretending' to be-- especially since he knew how to do it, and it would serve several roles at once. It was a good hour or more before he was satisfied with having seeded the area with the vicious little horrors he had 'just so happened' to drop into the foraging holes he had been digging, while discretely prompting them to germinate, and greet the summer sun. He had continued 'subtly' coaxing their growth, while doing his lumbering "bear shuffle" amongst the muck and puddles, urging their roots to go deep and wide into the surrounding environs. The whole damn ruin site was now ringed in, like one giant bear trap, ready to be sprung. Lazily, he waddled back up to the lake, carefully removed the small sack, then took a nice refreshing dip in the water to get all the mud (and old dungeon stench) off. "Are you done yet?" was the complaint he was greeted with when he returned to Henri, who was wearing his clothes in a most peculiar manner. Almost comical. "Yup. I thinks so. I'm ready when you is."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark He listened, but not to understand. To him, their words were discordant noises, rambled by criminals either to rat out their partner-in-crime or to vaunt their innocence. Be it a plea, confession, or reason, he ignored it all as he toss them into the Rascade dungeon. And today, he expected it to not be any different. But the first person to speak had brought a certain irregularity, and it started to get on his nerve. How dare they come to this place, deceived his men, and then stated, right in front of his face that they hold the information he was unworthy to hear? His anger reached its peak when a certain former noblewoman spoke up and reinforce what the first trespasser said. Even more so when she brought up the name Matilda. Too long that she-orc had been the thorn in his side. So what? His Highness trusted her and now she acted like she owned Rascade. "Be silent!" he rebuked, harsh and efficient. "I am not here to bandy words with an ungrateful daughter who ran away. How is Rosenving now? Did you crawl back to His Majesty's feet asking for His favor while your family begged for table scraps?" Yvonne strode a pace forward, but suddenly Jazdia's clutched her by the shoulder, and she halted, glancing at the elf with clear disdain. "Greetings, Constable Delving. I wholeheartedly acknowledged that the timing was less than ideal. But my friend was right, we are here on Fredricus' order." Jazdia opened her bag and reached for a transparent tube, which contained a piece of document, neatly rolled and tied with a red ribbon. She unknotted the ribbon and presented the paper so he can read it himself. But the man furiously struck the elf's palm, causing the contract to be released from her grip and flutter away before landing on the grass. The captain whirled at Keito, before continuing his admonishment loudly. "Listen here, you cheap idiots! I asked a question, plain and simple and all of you made a fucking song and dance about it! I don't care who ordered you. I ask a fuckin question and you fuckin answer. Now is there any of you, in this sorry group who can answer, in plain Common? Please? Thank you!?" As he speaks, a dozen of guards had made their position around them. All were armed, and they only waited for the Constable's order. "Or maybe I should just haul all of you to Rascade Dungeon myself!"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chōnan snapped from both for stroking the Captain's man strength on the lady's palm and desecrating an important paper that had been sealed by the King himself. "Mind if I put something first?" He said and pulled something from his bag and it was his mask during his prime on Knight's career. As he did a knight salute, an overwhelming ferocious aura has been released and those who caught feel flinches and recognize his prime status as a knight before. "Ex-Knight of cavalry unit, Kagetane Chōnan... Late Sergeant, definitely going to haunt you down as you stroke that paper with the King's sealed into the ground. A yelling that pierce into your soul. Whole day of running around until your feet give up" He walked toward the place where the contract fell off. The surrounding guards that were meant to block him started to shaken and Chōnan felt disappointed. "These guards are not ready... yet... Their postures are weak and shaking. Even less trained Mechean surely fill vacant spots here." He picked up the contracted and handed back to Jazdia instead. He felt that the Captain himself can't be trusted to hand the contract. "It is classified from the top and I'm overseeing our guests for their work under Madame Matilda Ironsword. We had a business here and also I visited my late units and my superiors." Yes. He paid them a vist before he catch up with his party on the investigation area. "As Milady's suggestion, go send a runner if you are not satisfied enough."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "These guards are not ready... yet... Their postures are weak and shaking. Even less trained Mechean surely fill vacant spots here." "As Milady's suggestion, go send a runner if you are not satisfied enough." Few recognized that mask, but their number was insignificant compared to those who feared the wrath of the Delving. The Constable had his mouth agaped slightly, both in anger and bewilderment. Though he could find the gist of whatever this Ex-Knight Cavalry was saying, he still heard it as a slightly clear gibberish. An impudent one. One that does not respect his authority. In a fit of newfound anger, he brandished his pike and thwacked the Ex-Knight Cavalry at the back of his knee, immediately ending his dramatic posturings and forcing him to kneel. And soon it was apparent that the soldier was not trembling in fear, but instead waiting for an order, and they just got one. Two soldiers joined the fray, then one more, probably annoyed by the warrior's condescending remark, or they wanted to prove him wrong, all working in unison to pin Chounan to the ground and had him cuffed. The contract escaped the Samurai's grip and stretched out again on the grass.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "These guards are not ready... yet... Their postures are weak and shaking. Even less trained Mechean surely fill vacant spots here." "As Milady's suggestion, go send a runner if you are not satisfied enough." Few recognized that mask, but their number was insignificant compared to those who feared the wrath of the Delving. The Constable had his mouth agaped slightly, both in anger and bewilderment. Though he could find the gist of whatever this Ex-Knight Cavalry was saying, he still heard it as a slightly clear gibberish. An impudent one. One that does not respect his authority. In a fit of newfound anger, he brandished his pike and thwacked the Ex-Knight Cavalry at the back of his knee, immediately ending his dramatic posturings and forcing him to kneel. And soon it was apparent that the soldier was not trembling in fear, but instead waiting for an order, and they just got one. Two soldiers joined the fray, then one more, probably annoyed by the warrior's condescending remark, or they wanted to prove him wrong, all working in unison to pin Chounan to the ground and had him cuffed. The contract escaped the Samurai's grip and stretched out again on the grass.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "No, Junior. I dont think I will." Well ain't today just going real real bad. Yvonne sported a lopsided grin, something her brothers in arms would've recognized as the prelude to violence, but this far off her hunting grounds there's no one capable of noticing the threat. "What make you think I care about my family, daddy's boy? Looks like you still have no brains between that ears of yours - crown business. Maybe try listening sometimes. I'd say if you hurry you can run to father dearest to beg his majesty for some breadcrumbs before the day ends." And the damned foreigner just went and spouted some convulted nonsense. Then he got taken down by surprise. Good fucking job man. Yvonne ain't letting that happen though, dude's about a third of their fighting strength by her estimate. The mercenary took one step forward, twice, swing her leg back, tap into her inner strength, and kicked the dumb schmuck trying to cuff her coworker. Not a big boost, she's not planning to kill the footman, but enough to lift him a foot into the air. Catching the idiot by his cuirass strap, she utilized the man as a bludgeon to knock away the other two before tossing him toward Aaron - who saw it coming and stepped aside, but all it achieved was the improvised projectile crashing into the gathering rank of the guards. That should do for warm up. "Up you go." She grabbed the downed adventurer by the scruff of his neck, pulling him to a standing position before retreating out of the pike's range. Yvonne escalated alright, but no steel were drawn on her part. Who knows? Maybe the show of force will get the other side to reconsider their stance. She didn't fancy the thought of fighting through the entire garrison of Rascade.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword Matilda walked off in the direction of the footprints, the kidnappers thought themself pretty clever that there could try to cover their tracks. But she was a much more skilled hunter than Anderson and the others. She thought this was now turning into a hunt, she was the predator searching for her prey. Standing in between some trees, she stopped and stood there for a moment. She was placing her hand on the tree, wanting to know what they saw during the incident. Getting quick flashes of what happened, seeing the kidnappers waiting for the right time to strike. Gets into a skirmish with the guards, and during the confusion stole the prince. Having to run on foot northwest. "Where did they go? Is there a safe house they ran off to with the prince?" Communicating with the trees, wanting to know where the kidnappers could have gone. Hearing a distant voice of the kidnappers, mentioning something about a submerged ruin west of here. She knew what they were talking about, it was a lookout formerly used by the Kindence forces during a war with some dark elves a long time ago. "So that is where they are keeping the prince. Thank you Sar Echia." Patting the large oak tree, walking off towards the direction of the ruins. The trip did not take long for Matilda, once she was a few meters from the ruins. She crouched down behind some trees. Watching the ruins to make sure there was no one patrolling the area. Her eyes looked over at the marking Henri made to her armour, remembering that she could hear every word. "If you hear me Henri, I have followed the trail to some submerged ruins. It does not look like they are any patrolling guards, so perhaps they could be hiding inside the ruins. The ruins are located west of the hunting grounds, I do not know where you are, but the ruins should be located by a large body of water. So just follow the river near you, which should lead towards the ruins." Heading carefully towards the ruins, noticing that half of it was submerged in the lake. It has not been abandoned for almost seventy years. Matilda searched for someway inside the structure. Finally finding the main entrance that was not submerged in the water. Moving as stealthfully as she could inside, finding it eerily silent. Part of her thought no one was here, becoming increasingly worried that the prince was not there.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri then headed towards the ruins at a walking pace, following from a distance Cedar who's naked and on all fours, inconspicuously posing as a bear. Well, by all accounts, he's at best part-bear, but this way he looks no different than actual bears in the wild. Whether or not bears could actually be found in the marsh, Henri had never cared to remember. Quite the quiet stroll. Nothing but the sounds of their gentle footsteps, the marsh insects, and the flowing lake not so far away from them. Dry footsteps even if they're in the marsh, as Henri actively rids the mud of its moisture with every step, via a combination of his telekinesis and temperature increase. Suddenly, as they get closer, a peculiar voice starts to ring. Matilda? Large body of water? No way... Henri smirked. She actually got to the exact place they were heading even if they took a different route? So, the kidnappers convened in there after all... Wait, she didn't rush in alone, did she? With merely the frail lanky man on his side? Henri hurriedly skated with his oversized boots, reaching within Cedar's earshot. A steadily loudening ring of 'Cedar. Cedar.' could be heard, until Cedar turned his head towards Henri. "Cedar. Run. I can hear Matilda, she's already in there." It is quite urgent, but he's quite too chill to shout about it. It should come without saying too that no one's patrolling the entrance.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's ears popped up with alarm and his bright brown eyes sparkled with bits of white surrounding them. He shot a glance at Henri, blinked, then tore up the ground on a mad-dash sprint toward the ruins, sticking to areas he was certain were free of hazards, leaving the the odd man behind in a flurry of flying mud chunks. Henri caught up shortly after, as Cedar was shaking off the last of the mud chunks from his feet. The man seemed eager to get the gunk off the boots he had borrowed as well, as he kicked it off, then scraped it on the few exposed paving stones of the ruins, before the two of them searched for the entrance.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia felt the sores building in her hand. If it was an idle insult, she would have tolerated it, but the man attacked her fair and square and trampled on the legal bindings that were supposed to be as sacred as the law itself. If she was her younger self, she would have reached for Maugrim in instant. But while still contemplating whether she should let it ride or slice the man's neck open, That oriental knight suddenly made provocative actions, spewing threats, trying to assert dominance. The Constable reacted immediately, followed by his men. Then it was the small lady's turn, intervening by sending one guard flying with a kick and jostling the others like a rag doll. However, the escalation halted with an uneasy stalemate when the Rosenving noble secured the Samurai boy and had him standing up again, retreating from the impending brawl, but certainly not running from it. Jazdia casually pushed aside one of the pointing spears and made her way to pick up her document back. Glared at the two troublemakers, she commanded; "Stay where you are." Then she faced the constable, letting out a long breath before speaking. "Now you have it, the show of force. Congratulations! Are you ready to be sensible now?" But the Constable's wrath remained unhinged. He eyed his men, and Jazdia could feel the point of their pikes following behind her. "Do you think I am playing games here, you elf bitch?" "Yes, and the bad one I am afraid. Trespassing, that's the only infraction you can convict us with, and you had the entire platoon making an arrest before we could finish explaining ourselves. Ignorantia iuris nocet, your negligence of the correct procedure could cost you. Are you willing to take that bet?" The constable tensed, but then reined his temper. "Look at how pathetic you are speaking about the law while you beguiling my men to get what you want." "Can you prove it?!" scoffed the elf, then she turned around. "Can you all?" "No, they can't. And here you are hell-bent on arresting us as if your life depended on it. You can try, Constable." she raised her voice so all soldiers could hear it too. "You all can try! But know this, we will not go quietly, we will cripple you and maybe kill some of you if we have to. And the worst thing that could happen to us is several days in your dungeon and a slap on the wrist. You are now assaulting those who work with your king. What is your defense?" She retreated. A blade of one of the pikes touched her shoulder, but both the elf and the soldiers stood unwavering. "What is your defense, Soldiers? Your captain is a noble gentleman. But you lot are not. Your captain will be fine. But you will be the one who takes the brunt of his unprofessional misdemeanor, in addition to suffering the aftermath of this hostile encounter. You saw what is sealed on that paper, and God is my witness you stand between fulfilling your duty as your captain commanded, or hindering the task given by His Highness. Make your choice!</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] The day could've went better for one Constable Aaron Delving. It was supposed to be a quick check up to ensure no trouble had come to pass, yet it turned out there's a bunch of nosey no-gooders stomping around what's arguably the most important site under his responsibility. Unfortunately he had went in expecting a bunch of scammers that could be easily hauled into the dungeons with some harsh words, and that led to the noose of various circumstances tightening around his neck. For one, he had the mistake of acknowledging the rabid dog of Rosenving as a noble. That alone massively reduced his options, considering that his men would be very much disinclined to dip hands into nobility conflict. Then there's the royal seal that now unfurled on the ground for all to see, and he could practically feel the unrest building up behind him. Just as the soldiers were stuck between a rock and a hard place, the constable too were torn between keeping his hard stance or accepting the implied ceasefire. "Men, escort these people off the premise. No one is to enter until I personally permitted otherwise." The constable eventually said, stomping the butt of his pike twice on the paved ground. There's audible sigh of relief from the rank, but he pretended he didn't hear those. "The court will want explanations on how these mannerless scums managed to acquire a royal seal." It wouldn't be too late to arrest these lot after the king was pressured to deny the knowledge of their existence. With a gruff snort, Constable Delving stomped off the premise as most of guards hurriedly jogged to follow. Was it sheer noble pride that caused this behavior, or were there more sinister motivation lurking underneath? Regardless, as the marching footsteps faded into the distance, the rest of the guards politely but sternly showed the party the exit. One of them even very carefully retrieved and patted the dust off the order before handing it back to Jazdia. With the prickly constable gone, it's probably best to not cause any further disturbance for now.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The fort by the river was, at one point, one of the various defensive installment to prevent unwanted naval presence from sailing inland and wreak havoc in the underbelly of Kindeance. As time passed and the kingdom's navy grew in strength, however, the facility gradually lost importance until a great season of deluge many decades ago caused the river to shift and engulfed most of the fort. The wooden structures had long since decayed and swept away, leaving no more sign of the great hall. The outer wall had all but collapsed, though the two towers at the land-side still persistently stood albeit slowly sinking and tilting over time. The keep too had partially collapsed as the motte it stood on was eroded by water, but somehow it wasn't uncomfortably tilted unlike the two surviving towers. Matilda entered through a collapsed wall, into what should be the lord or commander's mess hall. The entire place was devoid of furniture, any trace of it already taken away when the fort was abandoned. The stench of horse dung permeated through the room, coming from the far side where a pile of feed and an open barrel filled with now stagnant water. The last bit seemed to be a slightly more recent addition to the aged fort.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Keeping up with Cedar's bear-like speeds, Henri was then caked in mud and it irritated him, slightly. Nothing that can't be fully undone, however. He began walking towards the entrance of the ruins. As he did so, steam rose up from the mud on him, drying up quickly into fine dirt which then began collapsing off of his body. It looked quite like Henri walked out of a dirt-coloured smoke cloud, and he was then fully clean again. The amount of control it must have taken to remove every speck of dust at the same time... Training his control for decades with the thousand minuscule parts of this pocket watch is worth it. Truly, he can repair it himself without having to use Inorganic Repair. He looked at the collapsed wall, then glanced at Cedar. This wouldn't quite do. He held out his hand and began tearing off as much brick as he could to make Cedar fit without collapsing the ceiling. At the same time, he cast Temperature Increase on Matilda's left shoulderplate that was affected by Core Spreading, not enough to burn her but just to signify that they've arrived. The cyan marking on the shoulderplate faded slightly, but it's still quite there. He walked in, fully unable to smell anything, much less horse dung, but could at least tell that the water in the barrel is dirty and not potable. They haven't been here for far too long. He sighed. Even now, the only thing they could do is find more clues? Invoking his Metal Sense to look for traps and anything useful in the ruins, as well as Matilda's unique armor.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As the situation settle downed by a ceasefire. Chōnan make a small bow on his party after exiting the park. By reflecting himself from action before, he keeps being quiet and focuses to guide the party as the team leader's wish. Still on his awareness on his surrounding and never let his guard off. He keep guiding the party with the shortcuts and will cover the fees for showing a compensation from his action and show more hospitality to his party.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia watched the man depart with mixed feelings but then decided not to make more fuss of it. Well, wasn't that just nice? That constable left, nobody got hurt and they both can preserve their pride. The only lamentable things about this state of affairs were Jazdia swatted hand and their access to investigate the site had been cut off. She tied the ribbons and left, thinking about how Fredricus would deal with the incoming storm. *** Nobody knew what Jazdia was thinking right now, not even herself. As they walked down the street of Rascade, the elf remained quiet, and her companions too until someone broke the ice by informing them that he will go for an errand. The Chounan guy did it again, asking to do questionable deeds at the worst possible time. It was apparent that Jazdia started to question the cohesion of her group. "What a prick. That Delving." gruffed Yvonne, both seemed to ignore Chounan who already excused himself to God knows where. "Oh, you know him? I guess such feud is indeed common amongst every house across this continent." "Yeah. Not too well though, and it's been eight years." She shrugged. "The man wasn't incompetent or anything, but he's at best above average in just about anything he put his hands on. The Delving name carried him far though, and he ain't shy about flaunting it. From what I've seen, he's practically unchanged." Yvonne hardly needed to remind Jazdia of that. Their brief investigation alone had revealed a sheer incompetency so blatant it looked very unnatural. The other half of the explanation suggested that it could be the case, however; a prominent house means great political bargaining power and support, something that Fredricus couldn't afford to lose. And Jazdia knew a man like him would not think twice to pander a noble oaf by giving him a strategic position. And that decision had almost proven to be his undoing five days ago. Jazdia patted her shoulder. In order to give them a sense of progress, and encouragement Jazdia couldn't help but be technical with her words. "What happened back there was indeed regrettable, but let's not get sidetracked. We got what we needed, that Black Serpent sounds like a solid lead." The elf looked at the red sundown at the west and wondered how was the investigation going on Matilda's side. She hoped they have reached Hdur as planned. It was such a shame that she, as the one who planned the rendezvous couldn't keep her word and be there as scheduled. Their stroll from the Memorial park to the city boulevard, again, was uneventful, to say the least. Jazdia brought them to a place called Angel's Share. A large, three-story building, with extravagant decorations that made it look like a bordello. There was a sign on its door that read Closed, but the lower windows showed lights behind thick curtains. As they hesitated to get inside, a spacious common room greeted them, with a hearth, long tables, and the smell of ripe cheese, beers, wines, and fresh loaves that makes it feel homelike... or tavern-like? Upon closer inspection (if one could bother). the inn looked well-maintained and seemed to be designed with the utmost sense of hygiene in mind. The floor was tightly nailed, the tables were stainless, and the bar, Instead of wooden, its surface layered with granite tiles, ensuring no detritus or any kind of filthy scraps unfit to be mentioned resided. Jazdia told them beforehand that this inn underwent a partial facelift to make it more presentable and up to the standard she had back in Helvetia. "Good afternoon, Miss Jazdia! The meeting went well I assume?" At the counter was a handsome young man that seemed to be in his early twenties. He wore a dull evening shirt with a black tailcoat and had his face adorned with gold-framed glasses. Behind him were large cabinets with the usual assortments of kegs, flasks, and clean mugs shelved neatly. Among other things were a dozen or so bottles of wines that seemed to be added just recently, and a full-sized calendar nailed at the beam. The artwork for September presented a certain elven blondie clad in questionable two-piece swimwear posing with an irritated expression. The elf immediately had herself seated. "Afternoon, Lucas. It was, yeah, as expected from Fredricus's court." Jazdia looked around before placing her bag on the table. "No angry mob stormed this place in my absence I assume?" The bartender shook his head, smiling as he headed into the kitchen. When returned, he brought with him a tray laden with kettle and other crookeries. "I saw no patrons, let alone undesirable characters walking through our door today, milady." The tea was served in a blue porcelain cup, followed by a slice of freshly baked Helvetian-style spekkoek not long after. Jazdia then asked for a pen and paper and requested Lucas to prepare a pair of homing pigeons. After providing all of her requests and the elf began to compose her letters, the bartender faced Jazdia's newfound companions and humbly asked. "How can I be of service?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword @A5G @Grade Matilda was glad that her helmet was blocking out the smell of horse dung and mold. Scanning the area where she should go next, heading towards the middle door. Treading carefully as she made her way further into the fortress. The sounds of water drops and other strange sounds did not help with her paranoia. But she assumed that she could be heard, because of her heavy armour. Stopping to check her surroundings, making sure there was no one waiting to ambush her. After a few silent moments, she could see the mark on her shoulder plate starting to glow red hot. Signifying that the others had arrived, walking further out towards what she presumed was the commander's office. The large orc was searching everywhere for any kind of clue, it didn't matter if it was some sort of paperwork. What would be even better if she could find one of the kidnappers to interrogate. She hoped that the culprits were here, just so she could give them a well deserved beating.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Shaking off the last bits of muck before heading through the widened wall opening, cedar wished he hadn't. The interior was rank with the stink of horse manure and urine. In the foul deposits on the floor, he spotted the recent footprints of who was most certainly Matilda, if Henri's report was accurate. He traced them deeper into the compound and found his mark. She was quite edgy, and rounded on him before scowling and hissing under her breath not to sneak up on her like that. He just dropped his ears a little and frowned at her, but got the hint about staying quiet for the moment, instead just shadowing her discretely. If there WERE any assholes in here, he would back her up with the little surprises he had sewn all over outside. In fact, he paused a moment to help grow the root system deeper inside, through the gap in the wall, just to be on the safe side. So far though, the search had turned up no sign of recent habitation besides their own presence there.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Beyond the barren hall-turned-stables was the two sets of staircase, as well as what must've been the lavatory. The path down was filled with water after the third step, but the way up remained open with some bats scattering away upon sensing movement nearby. If one were to investigate the lavatory, they'd find a recent trace of use - all dried by now, but the stench was still present. In the current floor the only trace of metal was the band around the barrel and Matilda's equipment. There's various presence above, small things roughly gathered on one side of the room. So far nothing moved beside the orc knight.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. "Am I the only one who can explore this...?" Henri stared at the water-logged stairs to the lower floors. There's probably nothing to explore in there, unless the kidnappers were a certain breed of mermen... It wouldn't hurt to explore later. He sees Cedar and Matilda convene, and chooses to merely pass by the room they were in silently. It's good that Cedar's boots don't make even a quarter of the sound that Henri's shoes with bronze soles would be making. Right now, he'd rather climb the stairs above. He chose the closest one where he could sense the most metal objects.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" They reconvened at... well, the name sounds like a brothel, the decoration looked like a brothel, and the way it's all closed up kinda feels like a brothel, but Sparky said it's an inn. The elf ignored the closed sign and went in, true to her words it was actually an inn in there. Hmm. Quite fancy one, if Yvonne had to say. None of those garishly pompous decor in an attempt to pander to nobility, but it's comfy and quiet and most importantly it's absurdly clean. Cant see a speck of dust or a drop of stain anywhere. As a frequent visitor to inns, the mercenary can confidently say that if the owner somehow managed to keep the common room spotless it's definitely a pleasant place to stay at. "Food and cold drink, for starter. What you got?" Yvonne glanced around the room, considering potential defensible point and escape path should Delving try something stupid. For a moment her eyes stopped at a particular calendar, before she turned around to Sparky nearby and back at the calendar. This time she didn't hold back from cackling as she took a seat by the table, right feet almost naturally raised to rest on her left knee. "Why, I never took you for a daring sort there Sparky."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The upper level was somewhat more intact. The yawning hole in the wall from below continued up here, but the collapsed section was decidedly smaller. They layout was roughly the same with the stairs continuing upward toward the battlement and there's better lighting with several holes on the ceiling. A marked difference, however, was the fact that this place showed sign of being lived on. Bedrolls were strewn on one side while several rolls of tools and backpacks sat against the wall next to it. One of the backpacks was on the floor, right next to what seemed to be the spot dedicated for cooking, with its content strewn all over the place. The cookpot had also been summarily kicked aside, where a pile of ashes mixed with tiny scraps of miraculously unburnt paper now sat. None of the above was the most notable thing in the room, though. A stiff corpse laid face-down in the center amidst a dark pool of dried blood, a feast for flies and several crows. The clothing looked to be some leather tunic, a very common outfit among the peasants, an unstrung bow abandoned not far from the body.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "What the- ah, Ser Cedrick. You're here very early." Anderson reacted just as a normal person would when a bear stampeded straight into their direction, though he remembered soon enough that he did in fact had a bear-man investigator. The squire wasn't sure why Cedrick was naked, but he's disinclined to comment on it. "Your lead brought you to this general area, I assume. Is there any new discovery?" He spared a glance at the ancient architechture, still steadfast despite gradually losing ground against nature itself. "I have no idea this place existed."</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. A dead person... Well. He won't need his stuff anymore. Henri willed the corpse's pockets to unfurl, revealing some spoiled berries that contaminated the hardtack in the same pocket, a few copper coins, and a spool of bowstring. Additionally, on his belt, a small dirk. Partially rusted. He dropped it with a metallic clang. There's nothing good. The unstrung hunting bow looks decent. He could probably fix the bow with that string, but bringing arrows is a hassle. Arrows. This must be one of the kidnappers... Then, the blood on the tracks... He must've offered to stay, then died after the kidnappers were long gone. No, he wouldn't be face-down if that was the case. Was he betrayed, stabbed in the back? Henri walked towards the center of the room, willing the backpacks to release everything they held inside them, all neatly sorted on the floor. Then, he yanked upward gently at Matilda's shoulderplate with his Telekinesis. The cyan marking on it faded entirely.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The backpack vomited numerous clothing article of varying stench, from shirt to pants and extra socks and underwears. Alongside was a few more personal articles, notably soaps, towels, a few razor, some water canteen, a compass, two deck of cards, a nail clipper, and small bottle of bug repellant. One bag was particularly loud as it disgorged a number of tin pots, pans, plates and cups alongside the cutlery and two wooden spatula. There's a sack of preserved food, enough to feed half a dozen men for at least two weeks. The rolls of tools, meanwhile, was categorized by purpose. One looked to be a mix of outdoor tools and horse maintenance. Another was filled with medical kit. Finally, the last seemed to be nothing but torture tools.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Food and cold drink, for starter. What you got?" The bartender eyed one of the thermoses on the counter and smiled with subtle pride. "That will be our specialty, fresh iced lemon te--" The noblewoman's nose wrinkled. "Do I look like a waif to you? None of those pompous leaf juice! I'm talking alcohol, yeah? What's in those kegs, huh?" The bartender sighed. Already two people rejected his carefully blended iced tea today, and one of the rejections came from a tea drinker herself. In resignation, he just shrugged. If this lady didn't like tea, that wasn't his's lookout. "That would be corn whiskey—-fresh batch made last month. For the food, we have deep-fried chicken in batter." "Sold!" The noblewoman smacked her hand on the wooden surface, disturbing Jazdia who sat on the other side of the table. As the bartender skipped to fetch the order, Jazdia beckoned Kaito and Chounan to sit at the same table. She had finished one letter and had it compactly rolled into a small tube. Leaving them for a while, she saddled that tiny burden on a pigeon's back and walked toward the door. "Rata forod meglin pad óurqu, noro lim meldë!" Just to make sure, she had shown the bird the mug sketches of Cedar before letting the flying critter fly to the northern horizon. Then she returned to the table. Might sound presumptuous, but the elf looked far more relaxed now. Maybe because of the tea. Without preamble, she began. "Before I... my company took over this establishment, we conducted some research regarding potential competitors and other disruptive entities. One of these entities is The Black Serpent Guild. But our intel on them was sufficient for business purposes only." There was a long pause. "All we know about them is they are a prominent spices importer on the black market. Keito, Mr. Chounan, as someone who understands the street of Rascade, I would like to hear your input on this matter."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Please put the table's order on my tab and give us a meal for dinner and as much as bottle of sake." The bartender Lucas froze for a brief second upon hearing that. He eyed the host, Jazdia, and obviously, there was confusion between all parties until the elf shooked her head and suggested that he might take the tip. "Good sir, there is no need... to compensate." said the bartender embarrassingly. If you look at Jazdia, you can see her face souring a bit. "Milady had arranged the accommodation for her esteemed companions, please don't trouble yourself with the arrears and enjoy our service to the fullest." Deliberately trying to avoid more banter and confusion, he turned to Kaito. "Mister Kaito, you are known to us. But still, what can I get you?" "Well, I can think of a few ways. but…Jaz always demands of me that I am on my utmost best behavior when I'm here so I'll just have to settle for the chicken and fried tofu again. And don't listen to this angry lady over here, she has no idea how great your hot leaf juice tastes." "Iced leaf juice." Lucas insistently corrected as if the mistake of guessing the serving temperature bothered him more than a blatant transgression referring tea as leaf juice, but then, he was a jovial man again. "An iced tea, a bottle of saké, fried tofu, and dinner for two. As soon as may be!" *** "Wow, that swimsuit looks good on you, Jazdia." The fox chirped. "I never expected you to be into such stuff. I guess you have a wild side after all." The compliment was as genuine as it gets, but the timing couldn't be any worse. She tried to evade this when Rosenving daughter brought it up but, now... not so much anymore. Sipping audibly, Jazdia gulped down more of the chamomile tea that it was advisable to drink in one sip. She should have known she won't be getting away from this "There is nothing daring or wild about wearing swimwear." Jazdia was more embarrassed when she realized her voice was getting squeaky. Clearing her throat, she tried to deepen her tone. "It was one of our marketing team's bizarre ideas. Making photoshoots sessions for every stakeholder's daughters as models and having the result printed on a special calendar. Now, don't look at me like that. I was just doing my part as the owner of the company. I can arrange such session for Yvonne Rosenving if she wished so." The noblewoman almost spurted her whiskey. "No way!" There were jokes and hearty banter between the two, and it would be a while until they can discuss the more important matter. But Jazdia let them have their laughs. After all, they were on a break right now, and might as well use the time to lighten the mood after this long day. "So, about The black Serpent guild. Kaito began. Friendly bunch of people, except when you want to get a share of the spice trade. Then you end up six feet under. They practically own the streets of Rascade. Most shops, traders and artisans pay them protection money. If you don't, you will get in trouble. They walk a fine line between enforcing their rule and attracting too much attention from the guards." "Hmmm... I didn't think I'm going to cross swords again with this type of Syndicate." this was Chounan now who spoke "Not just they run spices, they also run other filthy businesses around here in Kinderance. Slavery and Smuggling. He then described his findings about their warehouses and his method to spy on them. Quite a fascinating story and Jazdia would be having a hard time believing his story until he pulled a map. "I'm sure Kaito-san will know the rest of it." he concluded. "Indeed. I think they have around 500 members in and around Rascade. Many of them get recruited from orphanages at a young age or where homeless kids. The guild offers them protection, purpose and a family like bond. They let them start out with running small errands, pickpocketing and later on enforcing their rule on the markets. Some others were recruited at later ages because they offer specific skills. The organization is strictly hierarchical. Their top brass are called dragons. There are 3 dragons, each has their own area of responsibility." And the top dragon was now a man called Gerrald Grey. White-haired, with a unique snake tattoo; The tail end starts at his left hand and the head of the serpent was at his right hand. Jazdia tried to remember this. Needless to say, they needed to get into their HQ to capture the man. "It will be like storming a fortress. 500 people and we don't have any reinforcement, no thanks to Mr. Delving." Jazdia forked the last piece of vanilla spekkoek before continuing. "We need a distraction. A big one, something that can lighten the security in their HQ. And I think I have an idea."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Gathered in a worn-out quiver with an adjustable sling, the arrow looked alien. Its fletching was three spongy fins with textures like cured leather, glued onto a shaft composed of equally strange material. On a closer look, the shaft looked like it was crafted from very smooth ebony, but lighter and less stiff. At the end of the shaft was an unbarbed diamond-shaped steel arrowhead, and that was the only part of Jazdia's arrow that looked ordinary. As the elf held the arrow by its nock, a stream of energy wrapped its shaft and spread forward, forming a purplish flame on the metal arrowhead and turning it into amethyst-like crystalline. Jazdia's eyes glowed in a similar luster as she did the same to three more arrows. She placed the arrows on the table, separated from the other, unenchanted arrows on her left side. In front of her was Chounan's map, and with a graphite stylus, she marked three warehouses with crosses; one in the south, one near the Guild's HQ, and the last one was the warehouse near the harbor. While The other two were marked with circles. Both were situated in a venue with a considerable distance from the HQ. "When they realize someone is sabotaging their warehouses, the bulk of their security will be directed to the unharmed warehouses to prevent more damage. If it goes as planned, it will take a while for them to return to the HQ even if they got a wind of our infiltration." "Mr. Chounan can I entrust you with this task?" Jazdia presented the four arrows on the table and to the bewilderment of her companions, she revealed: "Those are explosive arrows." She eyed them and spared some time to savor their panicked expression, considering it as some sort of payback. "Relax. I instructed those arrows to be fully cooked in 8 hours from now. And even if those things are still with us after 8 hours mark, they will not go off as long as I am still here. She turned to Chounan again. "The plan is simple, fire those arrows on the marked warehouses and report back here once the task is completed. Be quick and don't get caught. I heard you are a fine archer and can ride swiftly. I am counting on you." "I hope you are not forgetting that the HQ is heavily guarded no matter what." said Kaito, explaining that the HQ also has a magical seal blocking its door to the basement. Kaito's story about those dragons feels rather surreal somehow. Anyway, with the plan laid out, it was obvious they would not sneak into the place in the dead of the night. "With so many security details, it would be impossible to not go loud on this operation, and that would beget another problem. Geralt may escape when he realized his place has been compromised. that would make things unnecessarily complicated indeed." Another silence fell until Kaito came up with a very absurd idea. "We'll be needing a serious business proposal. I heard some whispers that the Black Serpents are looking for high-end slaves. You know, people with specialty skills or dashingly good looks, like an elven beauty." He smiled, and that one smile so wicked Jazdia considered enhancing another arrow and stuck it in his behind as a punishment. No, she wasn't the one doing it. No matter how sensible the plan seemed to be, her pride was too huge to be tarnished like that she would rather close the place down and never come back to Kindeance, ever again, dead prince be damned! She breathed rapidly, before regaining her composure. "let's not overcomplicate things. We blast their door open and get the man. I don't care if we will have the entire basement caved in!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Uh, one question. Wouldn't it be more feasible to grab the man in his mansion? Or better yet, when he's on the way home." No matter how reinforced a carriage was, it wouldn't hold a candle to a properly set up building. Not as many guards too, and reinforcement would be both slow and scarce. Hit it fast, hit it hard, and be gone before anyone can process what happened. "On a side note, I'm against walking up on their front door. They'll inevitably recognize us, and when it comes to these kind of folks they can hold grudge for a really long time. Unless we completely uproot the entire band in one go." A more troublesome aspect was them going after the people around oneself. Yvonne couldn't care less, Foxxie probably would just disappear, but they wont hesitate burning this place down to hurt Sparky here for one. Dunno if the foreigner have family or acquaintances here, but they too would be a target. No, pretending to be businessmen had more trouble than its worth.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Uh, one question. Wouldn't it be more feasible to grab the man in his mansion? Or better yet, when he's on the way home." "If you ask me, I don't believe this entire Mansion thingy. In the times like this, strongmen usually will be more vigilant than ever. They wanted to be closer to their empire. Making sure it runs smoothly while at the same time remaining low profile. Remember that Gerald's face and his rank were barely known. This means the man is paranoid and rarely makes a public appearance. He would stay on his throne even if his empire is on fire. And don't forget, if the assassination attempt is any indication, they seemed to have a very extensive tunnel system, and they can and will use those passages as their primary means of transporting. "On a side note, I'm against walking up on their front door. They'll inevitably recognize us, and when it comes to these kind of folks they can hold grudge for a really long time. Unless we completely uproot the entire band in one go." "Our options are either that or have one of us cuffed." Jazdia shrugged. "Why? Do you fear those kinds of riffraff? If we can prove their involvement in Fred's assassination, I am damned sure Kindeance would have the entire guild purged until there is no single snake scale left."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] Anderson carefully went through the laid-out tools, pausing a bit longer on the torture implements. Took out a couple thing before placing them back. Then the squire brushed his hands off some imaginary dust before shrugging. "These haven't seen any use for a long time, ma'am." Not sure why would the kidnappers have it though. The prince wouldn't know any state secret, and would worth more unharmed anyway. Probably just in case they needed it? He walked over to pick up the parchments. Only little bits of corner that remained unburnt, and looked like someone scattered it recently. Henri? The largest piece was weirdly shaped, and completely blank. There's signs of restoration attempt there, but nothing important was recovered. A shame, but it's just another dead end after half a dozen other dead ends. Anderson didn't let it get to him overmuch. The reanimated corpse was... unsettling. And the jerky movement expelled even more of those rotting stench, Anderson subconsciously took a step back as he fished a handkerchief to cover his nose. Goodness gracious, that was horrible. Dame Matilda seemed unaffected though, she began questioning as soon as she got the chance. "They. Live. In Hdur. Eastern side. By the fo-fo-forest. Stone's throw. Away. From. Old Aldebert's. Farm." The zombie said in choppy, raspy voice. "Nowhere. Never see a prince. I do-do-dont know. Never see. Prince." Anderson's brow scrunched. There seemed to be a great disconnect between the expectation and what the corpse spout out. He stepped forward and to start over from the beginning this time. "Who are you?" Demanded the squire. "Birk." He waited for more. The corpse had no more. Sighing, Anderson rephrased. "What do you do for a living?" "I h-h-hunt. In the forest. So-so-sometimes. Royal ground. Secretly." He had to hold back from clicking his tongue. Was this corpse unrelated to the kidnapping? It cant be yet another dead end, could it?</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Dont be so morbid Ser! I'd rather enjoy life to the fullest instead of thinking about death, aye? Safe trip!" The captain waved until Henri was out of sight before hurrying back into the guardpost, most definitely so he can properly hide the cache of treasure from any potential surprise inspection. ***** "Any inquiry should be forwarded to the nearest constabulary office." The guards at the mausoleum said in near-synchronious monotone, as if they've either rehearsed or more likely repeated the same line so many times that they knew it by heart and at the same time hate it so utterly. There's no visible sign of commotion or whatever in view, it all looked just like usual. Or, well, as usual as post-assassination-attempt can looks like anyway.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The crows were intelligent animal, enough to hold gratitude and grudge, but they're also simple animal. Some fat, juicy eyeballs were great and all, but the dinner was face-down so they couldn't get to it and now that it's walking and talking again they'll probably not get any chance again. The grapes were nice alternative though, different taste palate but still good all the same. Not to mention the sheer quantity of it! All thanks to the rather unusual bear, who provided food instead of competing for it. This one's alright. Thus, when asked about the bunch of arseholes that inhabited the ruin, the crows were more than gleeful to share what they knew especially knowing that the bear and his friends had a couple bones to pick with them. Six different faces were mentally sent back, the features surprisingly clear for a bird's memory. All were accompanied with at least a hint of dislike, but two in particular the crows really hate above the rest. Apparently they took shots at the fellow crows, actually taking one down before. There's a rather pride(?)ful impression from one of the crows that it actually manage to shit right on one of them in recent times. The crow can tell that its target was very, very, displeased by the act. That pleased the crows immensely.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. "Hm." Henri hated dealing with the stuck-up royal guards, but understands that they're just doing their job, after all. Yet, it irritated him a bit. He thought he held enough rank for them to not redirect him and waste his time like this. He began walking away from the royal guards, but not before he subtly punished the one that spoke, by willing his armor to suddenly tighten at the 'lower' area, inflicting pain in his nuts. ~ This is the constable's office, right? Assuming it hasn't changed in the last several years. What's this kid's name again... He knocked at the door. "Aaron. It's Henri." Right, Aaron Delving. One of those nobles who tout their nobility like it makes them superior to those that are not... Or so they say. He never witnessed it first-hand.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "Come on in." Aaron Delving was seated by his table, frowning on a piece of paper that he placed face-down as Henri entered the office. The table was made of some hardwood with a dark furnish, heavy and opulent with decorative carving filling most of its front. The surface was mostly immaculate, a few decorative tinkets artfully lining the place. The walls was adorned with various trophy, the crest of Delving family the first and most prominent thing to see on the far side as one entered the room. It looked less like a constable's office and more like the personal study room of a noble, but considering the Delving's position this much wouldn't be much out of place. "Please take a seat, Ser Henri." His intonation was curt, offering the exact amount of respect demanded of an imperial tutor and not an ounce more. "You've come a long way from the castle."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "You sure our target will be there? It's well past midnight in eight hours." "After the commotion? Chances are high that he will be in his command post, coordinating things and making sure he is present at the place where almost all of his wealth is concentrated. If he decided to be careless by monitoring his damaged assets in person one by one, we will know it and our work will be a lot easier." Who do we present the evidence to?" Now it's Kaito's turn to speak. He brought up too many ifs in his assessment, and honestly, it was a fair skepticism. "We work with Fred. All of our findings will be directly presented to him." What Jazdia did not say was what if Fred, for whatever motive and reason found their report unsatisfactory. If that happened, all bets are off for them, and her leverage was not as substantial as it used to be. She hated to admit it, but right now, all she could do was to have good faith in that human king, and that should suffice, for now. "I will deal with the guild if they are not involved." said Jazdia. It was an open-ended statement. Her usual answer could also be perceived as her subtle way of saying that should be none of your concern... Kaito, as someone who basically worked with her, should be familiar with that kind of speech. "I feel that your disquietude is quite misplaced. You are an outlaw that tangoes with authorities on a daily basis. If another party goes on the dance floor, I am sure you will manage." "I think that will conclude this meeting." *** After some more railleries, Jazdia went upstairs to rest. She had instructed Lucas to show Chounan and Kaito their room if they feel like sleeping and informed Yvonne the number of her room. The room was spacious and cozy, lit by four oil lamps that radiates warm light. It had two beds with white sheets and blue-navvy blankets, a large cupboard, and a decorated partition. At the end of the room, close to the door that led to a private bathing chamber, was a long square table with white clean towels. The room was scented with a faint sandalwood aroma, and if one feel the perfume was too overpowering, or just wanted the breeze of fresh air, they can always open the large window situated at the west of the room. Jazdia spent fifteen minutes soaking her body in the tub which had its water warmed by her power. Putting on her pajamas and placing the bow and quiver next to her bed, the elf rolled her body onto the bed and slept.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Admiral Silas Delving... Publicly known as one of the strongest man in the kingdom, and equally skilled in command. Apparently, Aaron's brother too? They've only met once or twice, so it completely crossed his mind. Did he coast off of his brother's fame to get to his position? It'd fully explain his behaviour too. Well, that's just his guess, though. The telekinetic hold on Aaron's guards wavers. "They weren't in any bodily harm to begin with, but I'm not submitting to an unjust arrest." He stands up with a slight bow. "Henri greets the Master Admiral." He shrugged, for possibly the third time already. "I just wanted to know where my companions went. I didn't want to leverage the fact that Ser Aaron ignored His Highness' Royal Seal." Even with his eyes closed, he could expect a change in Silas' expression. It's that much of a grave offence. "You must have heard it too, right? The incident at the mausoleum earlier. Those were His Highness' people employed to investigate the attempt on His life, you know? The Young Master's kidnapping as well. Whiskey?" Henri offers the whiskey bottle in his hand.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] The admiral kept his eye on the guards, who slowly rose back to their feet with clear uncertainty on how to proceed from there. On one hand, their direct superior hadn't retracted the earlier order. On the other hand, well, this was clearly above their pay grade. "Well met, Royal Tutor; Clear the room, all of you." Technically an admiral have no jurisdiction over the constabulary, but in practice it's as if the footmen couldn't wait to obey as they filed out of the room with springs in their steps. Momentarily there's only the three of them left in the room, receding footsteps slowly fading in the background. "That is an unusual request, Ser Henri. And a grave accusation." The elder Delving smiled pleasantly in contrast to what he's saying, stepping to the side of the desk where he began tapping on the hardwood as his glance switch between his brother and the royal tutor. "What says you, Aaron?" "There were some... unsavory elements that deceived the guards to enter the hallowed mausoleum." He withered a bit under the gaze of Silas. "Only after confronted and cornered that they brought up the royal seal. Otherwise I would've arrested the whole lot." He looked like he had been forced to eat a sour lemon. "I was occupied with my duty at the admiralty for most of the day, such news take time to permeate that far." Silas accepted the bottle, raising an eyebrow at the shape and the label. "Huh, I didn't know you like our product, Ser Henri." He popped the waxed cork, perusing Aaron's liquor cabinet for three shot glass before pouring for them. At a glance the content was perfectly equal. "The prince is missing, you say? You do know realize that we cannot stay silent about this matter, yes?"</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri surmised correctly... What a relief, and it looks like Aaron will have to expect a scolding from Silas, quite soon. 'Our product'? This is whiskey from the Delvings' distillery? Especially with it being apparently eighty years of age, what a coincidence. Ah... Silas poured him a glass before he could say anything. Well. If this furthers their relationship, then he has no reason to correct it. Then, he was greeted with the question. He answered briefly after he poured the shot of whiskey in his mouth. It tasted of nothing, as with anything he would ever ingest. "I plead that you would, for His Highness' sake. There is good reason to believe that both these acts intend to spark a war. It wouldn't be good to panic the people." It seemed quite like common sense. The way that talking bear innocently pleaded with Fred too, it rings in his mind. The rumours will begin on their own anyway, as Young Master's absence grows of note. Henri saying all of this now will only slightly hurry the inevitable. These next few lines, coordinated with A5G. As if it's a complete afterthought, Silas turned to Aaron again. "Say, you haven't given Ser Henri any answers. Do you know where his companions went?" "I do not. I have some men looking, but it takes time and they could be anywhere in the city at the moment." It's hard to correlate the sputtering and angry Aaron earlier to the almost meekly obedient one right here, but there he sat like a little duckling. << The answer disappointed Henri, quite. Not that Aaron was either petty or vindictive for sending out men, that much was expected, but the incompetency of it all. Just across the door, a horse speeded past. What caught Henri's attention however was what the horse carried. He momentarily glimpsed with his metal-sense a spectre clad in oriental armor, with a long curved sword on his hip. How odd. It's not who he thought it was, right? More importantly, the last rays of this day's sun were dimming beneath the door. He steadily stood up as he spoke. "Ah. It seems I've taken far too much of your time. Thank you for indulging me. Master Admiral." Their hands meet in the middle, shaken. Henri's hands in particular have always adorned these pure black leather gloves... so as to mask the material with which his body is made of. What a radiance this Silas emitted from just this handshake. To a point that it physically irritated his core. Holy magic? It'd be best for Henri not to get close to him. "Constable." Aaron hesitated to shake hands for only a half-second, before Silas' gaze fell on him. "I'll take my leave now." He holds his arms out and the chests full of whiskey and vodka bottles jumped up to him like his own babies, and he promptly left the room.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "Uh think she's 'at elf girl--" muttered Cedar. "Dont look like human talk on the letter there at da end-- Purdy writin though. Bettern mine nohow..." He accepted the letter, then fumbled terribly trying to fold it up tiny enough to put into the impossibly small capsule on the bird's dainty foot. He had to remove his glove, and use the filed down nub of his claws to do the delicate work, and they lacked any kind of grip. After a comical display, he finally succeeded though, then headed back outside, leaving the pair of saddles on the floor, with the pommel down, and the trees facing outward. He returned some time later with another pair of saddles, and no bird, repeating the process twice more, before seating himself near the sudden influx of leatherwork and equestrian equipment, before getting out his twine and knife, along with the leatherworking kit, and setting to work on fixing the straps, cleaning the leather, and general maintenance of the kit, while doing his best to ignore the zombie in the room. And the stench.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark 4:20 A.M. Angel's Share Inn, Rascade City Plaza, Kingdom of Kindeance. Jazdia had awakened on the last third of the night and was ready to start the day after brewing some tea for herself. She found a blueberry tart on the counter and thought that would be sufficient for breakfast. Walked back to the second floor, the elf headed to the open terrace and sat there. A shadow jumped from the roof, then bowed before her. "Mission accomplished." the oriental man said. She could see it, or rather, smell it. The air was chilly yet blended with a faint smell of burnt sugar. The day was still dark but three yellow brightenings could be seen on the horizon, and some people had already wide awake; running on the street with cursings and concerned utterances. "Very well. Muster everyone, we will depart in half hour." *** Exactly 30 minutes later, the group returned to the street. Located four blocks away from Angel's Share, the Black Serpent headquarters was located between East Market and upper-class residential area, with the main access through a rather large alleyway with a huge wooden gate blocking the way. The place was deserted as expected, but the group remained vigilant as they approached it. Nobody knocked or breached the door yet, but they heard angry yellings from the inside. There was a peeping window on the gate, and on the interior's side, someone was guarding it. A very fat bald man with a mustache. Their courtyard was populated by ten or so members, armed like militias and briefed by a very pissed, red-skinned sergeant. Jazdia instructed Kaito, and the fox responded by donning his illusionary mask, impersonating one of the guild members he remembered. The peeping windows opened, a man peered, and with unconcealed disdain, he barked. "You again?! I thought the order was clear! Weren't you supposed to be with Anton's group?" "Yoo fatso! Anton sent me. I Aint coming back if ain't got something to report. Very important, it's about the attack. Where is the sergeant?" "You can tell me first." "Here? Naw! The guards could be anywhere, mang! Let me in and I will fill you in." With the sound of a disengaged latch bar, The unsuspected fatso opened the gate. The group sprung in, weapons drawn. Amidst the confusion, Jazdia was taken aback, there were quite a number of people directly in front of her. Should she flaunt a warrant and proclaim their right to remain silent? To stay their hand lest be incriminated for obstructing the enforcement of the law? The fatso slumped after Yvonne bludgeoned his abdomen. Snapping Jazdia out of that. "Hey, Sparky! What's the matter?" Nothing, except the fact that she was an agent of law no more. The only difference between her and these thugs was she had the King's blessing and her personal sense of justice. The thing was, both were equally finicky to gauge for righteousness's sake. But Jazdia knew one thing, no matter the circumstances, if someone tried to kill her, she would gladly return the sentiment. So when the thugs formed a rank and had their arbalest prepared, the elf fired her explosive arrow in preemptive retaliation, blasting four thugs and injuring several others. The explosion shattered the glass windows behind them, causing additional damage and concussing the surviving enemies, Now was the chance for Chounan and Yvvone to safely rush forward. They still had seven enemies standing. Three on the left and four on the right including the sergeant. Few were rabid and impatient, while some reluctantly welcomed the fight. An angry howl from the sergeant somehow inspired... or terrorized them. "What are you doing? They are just four! Kill the men, get the bitches!" Three thugs armed with blackjacks and some other improvised blunt weapons made a beeline for Yvonne. While on the Chounan's side, the sergeant led the charge, followed by two others. The only surviving crossbowman could be seen reloading his weapon and due to the courtyard being poorly lit, seemed undecided on who to shoot first.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As the sergeant charging toward to Chounan. He made a step backward and quickly titled his body to avoid the fowarding thrust. His katana already unsheathed and its one his right hand. One of his foot stomped the weapon and push it forward to break the Sergeant's posture. As loose balance Sergeant met the reach, Chounan's blade struck through the Sergeant's throat. The suffocating Sergeant got kicked by Chounan to caught one of two other guild member following the Sergeant's charge. Let the remaining fool attack him while meeting a weapon with a deflection by a katana to lose the posture. The shinobi excuted a quick cut to charger's throat. He performed Chiburi and sheathed his blade and struck the remaining charger with a quick draw sweep before the charger regain his stand.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark ____________ "Honestly, I'm not much of a fan of all this violence. Why don't we sit this one out pal? Just us living to see another day. Sounds good, right?" "Whatever you say! I yield, let the bigwigs duke it out, ain't got nothing with them no more!" The crossbowman threw his weapon away, one hand still raised to block the maw of Kaito's spectral Lupo. Looking at the ongoing carnage, the thug better meant every word he said. Seeing that Kaito would keep his word, the thug skidded sideways, crawling before rushing for the door. Free and uninjured, one might wonder if such an act of benevolence was worth it, but the deed was done. ________ The Sergeant, despite having a cut on his throat was not dead yet. The samurai's blade tore his jugular artery but did not sever it. Adrenaline numbed the pain, and with bloody gurgles, he roared, making a second wind by rushing forward. Swift and unexpected, his last attack was delivered with sheer desperation and rage. The confident samurai was too quick to indulge in his premature victory, but was far from being unprepared, in an equally swift motion he twirled, evading the incoming onslaught, and retaliated with a quick swing against the sergeant's neck, decapitating him.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito looked on as Yvonne smashed someone's jaw in with her mace, while Chounan was decapitating the captain with a quick slash of his Katana. And this all happened right after Jazdia had blown a few of the thugs to pieces. It made the fox wonder if he should have killed that thug instead of making him throw away his weapons and have him run for his life. The Kitsune looked around and noticed that they had gained control of the courtyard. The Black Serpent members that had been present outside had all been taking care off and his group did not seem to have sustained any injuries. So far the operation went well. However inside the headquarters there might be more thugs waiting for them. The explosion in their courtyard should have been heard by the ones inside. Kaito made his way back to Jazdia as it was time to start the next phase.. "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Spoke Kaito as he pointed at the bodiless head of the man Chounan had just killed.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Jazdia walked closer to the door and activated her eyes. "There is no need for that. The upper floors were empty, and all activities seemed to be concentrated in the basement. The passage to reach the place was a straight line downward. Aisles and slope stairs with several rooms on the left and right. The opposition was minimal. Anything beyond that is still unknown." The group entered the place, and as the sun rose behind them, their sky was fading as they went deeper. And indeed no one challenged them. The passage was large, sufficiently lit, and rather clean. The rooms Jazdia described were barred from the outside. Devoid of lives save several flares of life force that deteriorate slowly. At the end of the aisle was a large metal door that stood unguarded, but no one couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was waiting for them. As they walked closer, the boisterous noise of cheering audiences could be heard. Jazdia activated her eyes again. Whatever behind that door was a distorted image, blurry and sometimes dark. The place was crowded, with many voices; men, women, gruff, meek and booming. Amidst the chaos, she saw a glimpse of a man with a prominent jawline and long gray hair, sitting proudly on his throne. "There was a barrier that repelled my power, but it was incomplete." She took a deep breath, already feeling the strain when she tried to bypass the interference. "But I see our man. He is there..."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" The entire place was devoid of life. Fucking weird, that's what. Those idiots outside in the courtyard could've completely entrench themselves in here and that'll actually buy some time but nooo. They stand around outside with their thumbs up their arse and any hope of resistance distingetrate within seconds. Yvonne didn't like how this looks. "Why is it barred from this side? Big man locked himself in there?" The mercenary strode forward, carefully testing the slab of wood. It wouldn't budge easily. "This smells rotten, but even if there's trap we still need to get in there yeah? Your call, boss." Glancing around a side room, Yvonne procured a table which she dragged to the corridor and overturned on its side, forming a makeshift barrier right before the metal door. If nothing else it'll provide some arrow cover if the nature of the trap was mundane men, but she really doubt that'll be the case.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The party was roused at the crack of dawn by a red-eyed Matilda, who seemed like she barely got a wink of sleep overnight. Thanks to Cedar and Anderson's effort they managed to restore the saddles into working condition. While setting off for Hdur immediately was preferable, doing so on empty stomach would benefit no one - thus a quick ride back to the camp where breakfast was prepared and food supply stocked as quickly as possible before the departure. "May you have an eventful trip, Ser and Madam." Anderson saluted at the departing party, now one man less than when they came. "If I find anything I'll send a messenger." The sun still hung low in the east when the party departed. Cedar's figure would've been an eye-catching one under normal circumstances, but thankfully the traffic between Hdur and the royal forest was practically nonexistent. Cant be conspicuous if there's no one to spot him be inconspicuous. ***** The village of Hdur was a relatively prosperous one, though still quite some way from growing into a town. Sitting in a fertile lowland with easy access to a forest for hunting nearby, a sizeable bog was discovered not long after the village was settled. This lead to a particularly important export of relatively cheap iron products, for the bog turned out to be a very rich source of bog iron. That said, agriculture still remain the largest portion of the populace. Grain field and vegetable patch and pastures and cattle pens spread out from the farms like gigantic spiderweb, no sign of planning in their placement. At the center of the village was the square, one one side was the tavern that doubled for inn while opposite of it sat the smithy side by side to the ore smelters and the fletcher. On the far side of the village where the lowland gently slope into a small hill sat the lord's manor, a knight by the name Sir Rabe who governed with surprising competence contrasting the man's complete lack of ambition. The entire place was a picture of idyllic countryside, their walls barely qualify as fences to keep wild animals out. Now, where should the investigation begin?</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "Hmmm. When it comes for a risk. It will be my pleasure." Chounan spoke up to everyone. The ronin went ahead Yvonne and stick near on the metal door. Chounan used his Ki to activate his inner self improving his senses on the surrounding for the greater effectiveness. The Ki-sensing detected the ambushers' breathing, fast heartbeats and their stances with the shaking from the long period of time holding of their weapon. He prepared his shurikens that match the number of the ambushers. As the metal door slowly open, Chounan quickly slipped inside on the sufficient gap between the door and door jamb. Everything become slow mo on Chounan's surrounding, he quickly readied his shurikens to hurled pricely onto the first ambusher who was the fastest to respond then continuously hurling precisely until the slowest responder. As he hurled the last piece, he dove onto the ground to rolled to the nearest toppled table for cover. He readied his bow to protect Yvonne and the rest of the team from the unwanted with an accurate shooting while in crouching position.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "But I see our man. He is there..." Jazdia hadn't finished her report when the Rosenving Daughter flipped a table and make a barrier. While Chonan... well the oriental man was not content with just preparing. "Hmmm. When it comes for a risk. It will be my pleasure." He announced. Despite his calm disposition, his words were laced with unadulterated excitement. He moved forward, opened the door, and slithered in. "No! Wait!" It was the first time Jazdia raised her voice since the operation began, and she immediately followed inside. A sharp groan of agony assaulted her hearing when she entered the room, then the sounds of whimperings and gasps. A silhouette in the shape of a human was slumped, followed by a thud. The room was dark, the torches were extinguished, leaving two spheres of ember glowing in the haunting darkness. When Jazdia reignited them and brought back the lights into that room, the atrocities became apparent. The room was separated in two. The first section had a stone beam directly facing the door. On that beam chained two humans. One human was dead, a shuriken embedded on his forehead. The other human, a female, had a throwing star stuck on her neck, and her body was spasming. The last Shuriken landed on an unused pillory. 'Please! Please have mercy!" cried one of the slaves as the light from the torches revealed their faces. In the corner of the room was a large cage with eight humans imprisoned inside. Males, females, and children, all mixed in one place. Their condition ranges from malnourished, to injured and mentally broken. One of the younger slaves reached out, showing her hand with three stumped fingers. "It hurts! I want to go home! Ma! I will behave! Ma!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito looked on as Yvonne smashed someone's jaw in with her mace, while Chounan was decapitating the captain with a quick slash of his Katana. And this all happened right after Jazdia had blown a few of the thugs to pieces. It made the fox wonder if he should have killed that thug instead of making him throw away his weapons and have him run for his life. The Kitsune looked around and noticed that they had gained control of the courtyard. The Black Serpent members that had been present outside had all been taking care off and his group did not seem to have sustained any injuries. So far the operation went well. However inside the headquarters there might be more thugs waiting for them. The explosion in their courtyard should have been heard by the ones inside. Kaito made his way back to Jazdia as it was time to start the next phase.. "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Spoke Kaito as he pointed at the bodiless head of the man Chounan had just killed.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Jazdia walked closer to the door and activated her eyes. "There is no need for that. The upper floors were empty, and all activities seemed to be concentrated in the basement. The passage to reach the place was a straight line downward. Aisles and slope stairs with several rooms on the left and right. The opposition was minimal. Anything beyond that is still unknown." The group entered the place, and as the sun rose behind them, their sky was fading as they went deeper. And indeed no one challenged them. The passage was large, sufficiently lit, and rather clean. The rooms Jazdia described were barred from the outside. Devoid of lives save several flares of life force that deteriorate slowly. At the end of the aisle was a large metal door that stood unguarded, but no one couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was waiting for them. As they walked closer, the boisterous noise of cheering audiences could be heard. Jazdia activated her eyes again. Whatever behind that door was a distorted image, blurry and sometimes dark. The place was crowded, with many voices; men, women, gruff, meek and booming. Amidst the chaos, she saw a glimpse of a man with a prominent jawline and long gray hair, sitting proudly on his throne. "There was a barrier that repelled my power, but it was incomplete." She took a deep breath, already feeling the strain when she tried to bypass the interference. "But I see our man. He is there..."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" The entire place was devoid of life. Fucking weird, that's what. Those idiots outside in the courtyard could've completely entrench themselves in here and that'll actually buy some time but nooo. They stand around outside with their thumbs up their arse and any hope of resistance distingetrate within seconds. Yvonne didn't like how this looks. "Why is it barred from this side? Big man locked himself in there?" The mercenary strode forward, carefully testing the slab of wood. It wouldn't budge easily. "This smells rotten, but even if there's trap we still need to get in there yeah? Your call, boss." Glancing around a side room, Yvonne procured a table which she dragged to the corridor and overturned on its side, forming a makeshift barrier right before the metal door. If nothing else it'll provide some arrow cover if the nature of the trap was mundane men, but she really doubt that'll be the case.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The party was roused at the crack of dawn by a red-eyed Matilda, who seemed like she barely got a wink of sleep overnight. Thanks to Cedar and Anderson's effort they managed to restore the saddles into working condition. While setting off for Hdur immediately was preferable, doing so on empty stomach would benefit no one - thus a quick ride back to the camp where breakfast was prepared and food supply stocked as quickly as possible before the departure. "May you have an eventful trip, Ser and Madam." Anderson saluted at the departing party, now one man less than when they came. "If I find anything I'll send a messenger." The sun still hung low in the east when the party departed. Cedar's figure would've been an eye-catching one under normal circumstances, but thankfully the traffic between Hdur and the royal forest was practically nonexistent. Cant be conspicuous if there's no one to spot him be inconspicuous. ***** The village of Hdur was a relatively prosperous one, though still quite some way from growing into a town. Sitting in a fertile lowland with easy access to a forest for hunting nearby, a sizeable bog was discovered not long after the village was settled. This lead to a particularly important export of relatively cheap iron products, for the bog turned out to be a very rich source of bog iron. That said, agriculture still remain the largest portion of the populace. Grain field and vegetable patch and pastures and cattle pens spread out from the farms like gigantic spiderweb, no sign of planning in their placement. At the center of the village was the square, one one side was the tavern that doubled for inn while opposite of it sat the smithy side by side to the ore smelters and the fletcher. On the far side of the village where the lowland gently slope into a small hill sat the lord's manor, a knight by the name Sir Rabe who governed with surprising competence contrasting the man's complete lack of ambition. The entire place was a picture of idyllic countryside, their walls barely qualify as fences to keep wild animals out. Now, where should the investigation begin?</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "Hmmm. When it comes for a risk. It will be my pleasure." Chounan spoke up to everyone. The ronin went ahead Yvonne and stick near on the metal door. Chounan used his Ki to activate his inner self improving his senses on the surrounding for the greater effectiveness. The Ki-sensing detected the ambushers' breathing, fast heartbeats and their stances with the shaking from the long period of time holding of their weapon. He prepared his shurikens that match the number of the ambushers. As the metal door slowly open, Chounan quickly slipped inside on the sufficient gap between the door and door jamb. Everything become slow mo on Chounan's surrounding, he quickly readied his shurikens to hurled pricely onto the first ambusher who was the fastest to respond then continuously hurling precisely until the slowest responder. As he hurled the last piece, he dove onto the ground to rolled to the nearest toppled table for cover. He readied his bow to protect Yvonne and the rest of the team from the unwanted with an accurate shooting while in crouching position.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "But I see our man. He is there..." Jazdia hadn't finished her report when the Rosenving Daughter flipped a table and make a barrier. While Chonan... well the oriental man was not content with just preparing. "Hmmm. When it comes for a risk. It will be my pleasure." He announced. Despite his calm disposition, his words were laced with unadulterated excitement. He moved forward, opened the door, and slithered in. "No! Wait!" It was the first time Jazdia raised her voice since the operation began, and she immediately followed inside. A sharp groan of agony assaulted her hearing when she entered the room, then the sounds of whimperings and gasps. A silhouette in the shape of a human was slumped, followed by a thud. The room was dark, the torches were extinguished, leaving two spheres of ember glowing in the haunting darkness. When Jazdia reignited them and brought back the lights into that room, the atrocities became apparent. The room was separated in two. The first section had a stone beam directly facing the door. On that beam chained two humans. One human was dead, a shuriken embedded on his forehead. The other human, a female, had a throwing star stuck on her neck, and her body was spasming. The last Shuriken landed on an unused pillory. 'Please! Please have mercy!" cried one of the slaves as the light from the torches revealed their faces. In the corner of the room was a large cage with eight humans imprisoned inside. Males, females, and children, all mixed in one place. Their condition ranges from malnourished, to injured and mentally broken. One of the younger slaves reached out, showing her hand with three stumped fingers. "It hurts! I want to go home! Ma! I will behave! Ma!"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan The ronin fell into unexpected trap. His emotionless brought into a surprise reaction. Forcefully kneeled himself on the floor. His shaking hand and loud panting will be noticed. He grabbed his katana and stick into his neck, it was just amount for him to cut his head but the whole body was paused. His life energy turn into an overflowing presence of Shura. His conscious is lost, something is controlling him. This something made his body stood up and keep the katana. A grinned on his face and the body is heading where the Geralt located.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Door was opened. Exotic guy went in. Sparky followed, clearly worrying over something. Then there's noises of things dying with distinct lack of weapon clash. Yvonne was only a moment late to the entrance, fully expecting to be greeted with quarrels but there's no resistance. No, there couldn't even be any resistance. Sparky lit up the room to reveal the slave holdings, likely low-quality goods from how they're mistreated. Yvonne's nose wrinkled in distate at these people, noticing the corpse and a soon-to-be corpse that was definitely killed recently. She spared the adventurer a sympathetic glance. "You couldn't have known, mate." So that's why the place's barred from the outside. Which lead to the question, where's their target and what he's doing locking himself in here? "Let's keep going, boss. We cant afford the delay." Whether it was trust or carelessness, the mercenary failed to notice her ally's transformation behind her.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia was furious. For a split second, she considered the option to plant an arrow on this man's knee and drag him out to be judged. Seeing the dead again, her heart sank, and she felt cheated, her idealism shaken to the core. No matter how to look at it, their operation had costed innocent lives. How could she claim the moral high ground after this? "On your feet!" Even when the elf grabbed the samurai by his collar, she was still torn between continuing this mission or bringing this man into the light. Nah... it was too late for that. Now was the time to think pragmatically, but for pity's sake, she hoped the man would show some remorse. "Hey Samurai! Chonan!" But the man was in a... psychedelic mess he kept grinning from ear to ear. Yet his eyes were empty, and he trembled as if being overpowered by a mysterious being. Jazdia, who had no time to deal with this kind of bullshit finally had had enough and punched the man square on his lower jaw. "Enjoying too much killing aren't you? It's their blood in your hand! Shouldn't you at least feel sorry about it?!" She had no idea if that punch was enough to mend her ire, or to make Chonan return to his sense. Something very wrong was at play here, and Jazdia, in anticipation clutched the handle of her long knife.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan The elf's punched was enough to turned his head to the side and almost lost his balance as he kept stepping backwards. It gripped the katana and executed an instant stroke onto the elf. As the kitsune made a full power charm, the katana stopped right on the elf neck. A demonic growl can be heard. One of his hand let go the handle of the katana and it reached the conceal part on his back. Revealing a tanto and rose it up. He quick stabbed his own arm that handling a katana. The body knelt down on the front of the elf, disarmed as it gentle landed to the ground. "Tch..." he produced a small demonic tone. He released the tanto on his arm and bleed. Chounan snapped out, his pupil eyes came back to normal and started a heavy breathing and sweating. "G-Gomen nasai..."</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan -snip-</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri left the constabulary office of the Delving estate, with the crates of aged liquor in tow. He HAD intended to sell them for a tidy profit, but the lack of leads on where to meet his associates had left him with a different use for the aged liquor products. Starting a circular path from the city's edge, around its perimeter, then moving inward on each pass, he would eventually cover the entire city. If somebody was foolish enough to try and jump him for his cargo, they would certainly regret it, and most likely, not live to tell about it. Thankfully, this proved to not be the case. The plan was simple-- Ask about the one thing he knew about with certainty. A young elf woman with blue eyes, and prematurely graying blonde hair, who was a retired adventurer, and was connected with the events at the mausoleum earlier that day, going by the name of "Jazdia." Public houses were a likely good place to dig for such a lead, as drunken men were often quite eager to part with what they knew-- or thought they knew-- in exchange for yet another round. In the cases where the patrons were probably not suitable to ask, the proprietor of the establishment could likely be 'convinced' to part with what they knew for the right price. Given the extreme age of the liquor he was hauling-- and thus worth a small fortune for each bottle-- such persons would likely talk once they saw the contents. Nearly every place he went to either had no useful leads, incoherent or inconsistent information, or knew nothing at all, much to his frustration. The sun was very red and low in the sky by the time he sauntered into sight of the Black Swan-- a mixed class 'dive', from what he could tell-- and showing signs of many drunken brawls, openly displayed gambling, and even more shameless displays of public drunkenness. He initially just milled about within the establishment, tuning his hearing for any and all of the latest gossip. Apparently, 3 men were enraged about a 'rat of a nobleman' who had cheated them at cards. Others were furtively questioning if the perp had gone off with the part owner of The Angel's Share, and some even questioned if she had been involved in the disturbance at the royal mausoleum later that day. Rather than risk causing a brawl over high priced liquor, he had taken the time to unbox a single bottle of the fine "Delving Family" whiskey, and secreted it in the deep inner pocket of his coat before entering. After a 'discrete' conversation and exchange with the owner, he finally got a solid lead on where Jazdia might be. A rather posh and prim little flophouse near the city's central square, called "The Angel's Share." Apparently, she was an "Angel Investor", who had bought into the nearly insolvent business, and had started enacting changes that were not very welcome at the Swan, as it had started drawing away some of the Swan's customers. Henri thanked the man, and exchanged him the agreed to bottle of prize liquor as payment, then headed out into the street, to make for the city's center. He remembered thinking that he had recognized her, since he owned property in that neighborhood, and he kicked himself for not acting on the hunch sooner. The sun had already set by the time he left the Swan, but he hoped that perhaps he could catch up to the other team there, if they had stayed for the night. If she was a partial owner of the establishment, it would make sense for her to board her crew there, and avoid paying and having room ledger paperwork that could be confiscated and investigated by corrupt officials. He had made it about halfway down the nearest avenue leading toward the square, when a loud explosion rocked the streets, followed by furtive cries and screaming. Ducking into an alleyway, and temporarily hiding his burdens there, he carefully climbed up the wall and onto the nearest building to get a good view of the city's rooftops. Fire could be seen clearly in the gloom of the skyline at night, and shortly thereafter, another explosion, and finger of orange glare popped up quite some distance away... Then a third. This was a highly irregular series of events, and with the city locked down, the odds of it being somehow connected with the abduction of the prince and the failed assassination of King Frederick, seemed more than just "highly probable." Sliding down the wall with a loud scraping, and landing with a cross between a thud and a clang, he threw his coat over the hidden chests to hide them further, then skated as quickly as he could to the site of the nearest explosion. The city guard was all over it like flies on a dead horse, as were the fire brigade, and several angry but well dressed men with stern, stony, and scowling faces. They had gathered at the demarcation line set by the guard commanders and the fire brigades to keep townsfolk and gawkers out of the scene, while the buildings were extinguished and investigated. Henri made discrete inquiries with the guards about the attacks, who owned the warehouse, and what was stored there. He discretely left the scene of the first warehouse, then once more hightailed it to the next-- repeating his discrete investigatory inquiries, then moved on to the third. Nothing seemed to indicate a real motive, but a pattern in ownership did present itself. All of the warehouses belonged to a group known locally as "The Black Serpent Guild". They apparently dealt with just about any and all classes of merchandise, in addition to a number of shady and ethically dubious services, but sufficiently 'above board' to be able to operate in the open. The cause of the explosions were believed to be foul play, as none of the warehouses really contained explosive materials that could spontaneously detonate, but many did contain flammable trade goods, such as wax, bottled oil, and bundled fabric yardgoods. No evidence of how the warehouses were bombed was readily apparent to the initial investigators however. Whoever was responsible, had chosen a very discrete method, but the police lieutenant believed there was magic involved, due to the lack of material evidence. It was well into the earliest hours of the morning by this time, and he was furious that he had essentially wasted hours of precious time chasing after a particularly elusive goose. He returned to the alleyway where he had hidden the cache of old booze, recollected his coat, then headed for The Angel's Share. It was well into the morning by the time he arrived. While the owner, A gentleman named "Lucas" with more pomp and posh than a man should ever display in public without a license, acknowledged that Jazdia was a partial owner, and had roomed guests for the night, he had no knowledge of where she had gone. Only that she had done so with some degree of practiced expediency, and was expected to return. Henri was pleased that at least she would return here later, and asked the man if he could secure the old, moss-eaten trunks he was carrying. The man initially behaved as if Henri were a deranged beggar man with such a request, but quickly changed his tune after learning of the trunk's contents, and examining them himself. He staunchly refused to hold the merchandise, asserting he would not be responsible for holding stolen goods. Irritably, Henri left the establishment, and secreted the trunks at his own private residence nearby. Shoppers, merchants, haulers and tradesmen had already taken to the streets and stalls long before, so he took the time to ask about the most conspicuous among them-- the disgustingly overdressed foreign warrior, "Chounan." With smiles and generally pointed fingers, the booth and stall merchants pointed him down the road his quarry had taken, and he moved with haste and purpose. It did not take too much more time, before he came within earshot of yelling, screaming, and the clashing of weapons. Pausing for a moment, he was SURE he recognized some of the voices. Gathering up the front of his jacket, he skated as fast as was realistically possible over the uneven cobblestones of the street, and toward the source of the disturbance...</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia shook her head in disgust as the samurai knelt before her. It was too late, and an apology could only do so little. Pathetic, she muttered, her blade was glowing brightly in response to Chonan's dishonorable attack, but she then decided, instead of ending this Samurai's life, she would rather save someone's life. The metal door toppled sideways after Jazdia slashed its hinges down. Seeing the glowing blade severing iron with fiery sparks, the slaves were horrified, confusion filled the room, some raised their hands in defense, and a few others cower at the corner, far away from the door and their executor's reach. Not in the mood to convince anybody, she hissed. "Leave!" and that was the only word she could afford to say. Near the exit, there was another chamber, blocked by another metal door with many locks. The door had a barred window, and if one peeked inside, they would see a child in her early teens imprisoned in that chamber. Her ankle was shackled to a heavy iron ball, and she sat on a stone dais with legs outstretched. Jazdia called, but the girl only tilted her head. She wore a ragged top tube and skirt with a distinctive pattern. She has curly brown hair and a beautiful face, blemished by dust but unscarred. A piece of cloth covered her eyes and she seemed to be heavily sedated. Jazdia could only imagine the unspeakable cruelty they put her through. Someone had to pay for this. She tightened her grip and slashed everything that holds the door to its frame. Hinges, latches, chains and locks alike, but the door wouldn't budge. Only when Jazdia touched the metal slab to push it down she realized there was a sealing magic that held it shut, and it was linked to one person. "Gerald, it must be him!" Without mentioning Chonan, she stormed for the exit and breached its door, reluctantly leaving the girl to her fate. Angry and bitter, she partially acknowledged that her anger was unwarranted. These atrocities were a common occurrence anywhere around the world, and she had seen a lot. So why this one affected her so much? "Miss Rosenving, this way." Their exit was a tunnel that leads to a circular arena. From here, the yelling becomes louder, and in it, Gerald's voice could be heard. Or she thought. Why she was so angry? Perhaps everything would be easier if she could find a way to justify... and atone.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Everyone here relies on you to make the decisions, the decisions that make the difference between us completing the mission and making it out alive or running to our deaths. We need you… I need you...the true you. So please calm down." "I am calm." said a Jazdia curtly, then, with a purple glint in her eyes under their bristling brows, she added. "If you think I am not, then you don't know me long enough." The elf let out a heavy sigh, and the air she released looked like it was unleashed from a fiery furnace. But then, her expression softens. "You don't need to worry about me, my little fox." Walked closer to the end of the tunnel, it seemed they just left a belly of the beast only to walk into another. The arena was a large circular space with three supporting pillars. The wall was solid stone, four meters tall from the base to the lowest seating an audience could sit to. The entire place was lit by a huge chandelier and no shadow at all. In the arena were two tigers, overpowering, and ultimately pouncing down a fighting slave and ripping his throat off. The cheering was loud and mixed with expressions of contempt or disapproval. The spectators were restless, yet the announcer remained upbeat. "And so passes, Terminators, champions of Sigurd. The beasts of the Alerac were too much for them!" Jazdia readied her bow and activated her eyes. It was still distorted, but through the stone ceiling, she could see it clearer; forty, no at least fifty or so people, populate the space surrounding this arena. Their faces were hidden beneath fancy-looking masks, and it was not only men who enjoyed this game of carnage, there were women as well, both aged and young, and 'looked young'. She readied her bow, picking her target carefully. There was Gerrald. The description matched, and he sat on the front seat, with luxuries on his left and right and a glass of wine at hand. The arrow glowed, and Jazdia took her steps carefully. Like a hunter she was stalking prey. But she overlooked the possibility of the other hunter. The tigers were not here for a meal, nor to fulfill some sort of craving to feast on human flesh. They were here for the sport, to enjoy the killing, and if humans can teach animals many things, why not cruelty too? And so with a piercing roar, the twin noticed her and rushed toward the tunnel with sheer of animalistic confidence. Thinking their victim had been cornered and was on their last stand. However, they were animals and thus couldn't be any smarter than that. When Jazdia's enchanted arrow struck one of the twins, it ripped and tear the other as well. The audience gasped in surprise. The announcer stammered. "Wait! Wait! Wait! What is that?" Then, after a moment, he returned upbeat again. "And suddenly, a burst of light! Someone pelted the beast bare! What in the world just happened?! Ah, oh ohhhhh we will be damned! New challengers just entered the Arena! Come on out and don't be shy!" Shy she was not. Jazdia walked over the dead beast and channeled another shot. This time no tigers, nothing stood in the way of her arrow and that damned guild master, or so she thought. The arrow flew and hit a transparent barrier and exploded in front of the man, but it did not kill him, not even hurt him. And the only annoyance he felt was he accidentally dropped his stemware in surprise due to the flashy firework show. "There she is! Fiesty lady and her companions! Welcome! Welcome. I see that you are very eager to start! A shame that you are a bit late! Today's match should have been done-and-done! We had seen plundering! Crazy battles! Tight escapes and desperate chases! But fret not! It seems the fight is far from over Ladies and Gentlemen." There was a loud one from the audience. "Can we buy them?!" The patron talking was a short, half-bald man with a braided beard. He was sitting between two women with skimpy clothes, and with his stubby, jeweled finger, he pointed at Jazdia. "Buy them? Of course! If they can survive the gauntlet" "No, I want to buy them! Can that be arranged?" The announcer shrugged. After consulting with Gerrald, he announced but was less enthusiastic about the prospect. "If you can tame them Master Ulgad! We will give you an 20 percent rebate!" The announcer then winked. "Alright! Give hearty applause for Wigerjurgen Crews! You can fuck them boys but be gentle!" With waves of laughter, the trap door at the north side of the arena opened. Three burly men walked in, their faces were covered with triangular metal helmets but their chests were left bare and hairy. Each brandished poleaxes with rust on its edges. Following them from behind were five stunted men carrying trawling nets with iron weights. Their twisted visage smiled with glee as they waved for the cheering of the audience.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan was the last entered the Arena. He put his yumi bow and his quiver full of arrows on the ground behind the backline of the party. He went straight to Jazdia and speak, "You should go to backline, Miss Jazdia. Let us main frontline be in front. My bow and arrows are all yours, so that you can use it when you run out of your main. It's better to tag along with their play, we can't win against overwhelming odds from here and the high grounds." As he sheathed his katana, he threw his scabbard on the ground, same thing with his wakizashi. It seems that he is Ambidextrous and the katana still handing with his injured armed. Kaito maybe know what Chounan's thinking as threw he his own scabbards and a missing cuirass on his body. Chounan will rely on cunning as he is light footed and no longer restricting his agility. Dropped items: - Ebira. An odd foreign looking quiver that currently hold 3 dozen of arrows. These arrows called Ya and it punches stronger than longbow arrows due to a longer length. - Yumi bow. An asymmetrical bow come from Chounan and Kaito's origin. (Since you already have a bow. It can be sold for a high price due to the authenticity.)</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When in battle, keep the talking at a minimum. Especially at a close-quarter brawl, especially now! Just when she thought the vanguard would make their first move, the two midgets hurled their nets at her. Jazdia pushed her body backward to retreat as an archer should, but the big man kept his eyes on her. Nobody could have guessed how his leg could support that tremendous body, but he did; he made a long jump from his position, landed between Jazdia and Yvonne, and swung a centrifugal wide slash across the party, with Jazdia as the main target. The elf raised her bow to block the heavy blow, but the force was so great it wasn't merely throwing her off balance but also violently pushed her entire body backward and had it collide with the pillar on the right. The audience cheered in a thrilling stupor as the announcer enliven the match with his feverish commentary. "—OUT! The elven lady was caught off guard! That sudden jump knocks her off right before the finish—! ACROSS THE LINE—! The Punisher, from Wigerjurgen Crews, the butcher Knight!!!"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri followed the trail of blood, bodies, and debris that started at the unguarded large door, hanging ajar at the end of a disused looking alleyway, then moved further in. Another door hung ajar, this one made of sturdy iron. There were two dead bodies inside-- clearly slaves, given the leg irons-- who had been killed by some kind of sharp weapon. One had a nasty wound to the center of its head, and another had bled out on the floor from a nasty gash through its neck. Many empty cages and leg irons remained, either sprung open, or laying chained to the wall, but unshackled. He followed the trail of carnage with his eyes, and out another door to the side, where he saw familiar faces, and the sounds of a jeering crowd. What was this, some kind of arena? The realization that he had come here with no weapons at all irritated him, and made him seethe. He looked at the slaves in the pen again. His anger only got worse. Who in their right mind murders innocent people like that? Angrily, he touched the iron of their bondings and chains, willing them to come unraveled, then form a pool of red hot 'goo' at his feet, along with the door, then willed it into a new shape to go with the kite shield he had over his back: A rather large, and frightening double bladed broad axe, with deep beards. His eyes glowed a dull red from the combination of using his powers and being angry enough to rip this place down himself. If this was Jazdia's work, he would have choice words with her about this. Another door, with the peep window opened, was near to the one that had been left ajar, unopened. He could feel magic subtly humming inside, but not from the walls. He rocked up on the balls of his boots, and looked through the slit. A very young girl was inside, chained up, with her head tilted to the side, extolling a drug-dazed expresion from behind a blindfold into the otherwise empty room. Further, enraged, he considered his options. Trying to save her now would cost valuable time-- He wondered if that was why the group had not released her-- but the corpses in the prior room still bothered him. Perhaps it was GOOD that the door had not been opened? A loud baritone voice like a pit-boss announcer bellowed from the empty hallway. "There she is! Fiesty lady and her companions! Welcome! Welcome. I see that you are very eager to start! A shame that you are a bit late! Today's match should have been done-and-done! We had seen plundering! Crazy battles! Tight escapes and desperate chases! But fret not! It seems the fight is far from over Ladies and Gentlemen." FUCK. There was not any time left, it looked like those bumbling fools had gotten themselves ensnared in the arena-- He closed on the gate at the end of the hall. The portcullis gate had slammed down, but it lifted easily. A quick examination showed that the locks had been destroyed. What the fuck? Were they in there ON PURPOSE? He didn't give a shit, he would get his answers soon enough. Shouldering the still blistering hot axe over his shoulder, where it sent small tendrils of smoke from contact with his coat, he stomped toward the open arena door. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" he demanded angrily as he stormed in, the gate crashing down again behind him. He felt an odd tingle as he passed through the doorway, which sent a momentary flutter through his core....</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" The two other butcher-knight looked at each other dumbfoundedly. Though their metal helmet showed no expression, they seemed to be flabbergasted by the new guy's bizarre entry. One thing for sure though, they were not one to answer a question, they were here to fight and they would just deliver that. The trawlers managed to net the unsuspecting Henri, and it seemed to be their biggest catch today. Wasting no time, the Butcher-Knight leaped forward and bring down his mighty poleaxe to the ensnared man before he could defend himself, mercilessly hacking his hardened body.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Sending Jazdia crashing to the corner might be a sound idea if you are not big and brandishing a big stick for a weapon. So when Kaito stood between the butcher-knight and Jazdia, the man did not have an optimal room to swing his mighty weapon, allowing Kaito to skid beside him and leaving a slashing wound on his forearm. The butcher spun around, but the foxy youkai was faster. Taking the advantage of his enemy's limited field of vision he ducked out of sight and used his wakizashi to tear his achiles tendon. Spurting blood all over the graveled ground as the burly man struggled to keep his balance. Nobody knows where those men came from, what they really were, and how Ulgad trained them into fearsome fighting slaves. One thing for sure, they were tougher than any human. When the heated metal struck his neck, the butcher-knight still managed to muster an incredible amount of strength to hold it by tilting his head sideways, using all the fat and muscle to cushion the impact, just like what his enemy just did. Behind that strange helmet came a muffled roar, and unexpectedly, he grabbed Henri by his arm and brutally pound him against the wall before succumbing to his fatal wound.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Being a burdened to the elf made him pissed to himself. Being alone wolf during adventurer made him dull his coordination for as team as he kept soloing. He tighten his grip and went to focus. With Kaito's distraction and losing the big man's posture. Chounan slipped in, made a posture in order to deliver a devastating stabbed with a katana for the finisher showing no mercy to a struggling big man. He actived his Ki to be caution on the surrounding especially for the responding foe to ensure countermeasures.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Welp, no plan it is. Tis' fine. The more chaotic, the better. In to the arena the mercenary went, only to be greeted by the most distasteful setup she had ever seen. There's one slave-looking man mauled by tigers there. Her eyes narrowed. That guy couldn't have been in here for long, so who fetched him from the previous room? Was there a secret door in the corridor? Well, the portcullis slammed down and cut off that thought so Yvonne had to switch her focus to the more immediate issue. "Once we find a way up there there'll be a lot of heads bashed in." Generally speaking, there's one rule in pitched combat. Your own safety comes first, and actually taking down the enemies was secondary. This group, among other things, was exception. The big lugs had their torso practically naked, showing multitude of scars from previous combat, and attacked with abandon. They're not here to play it safe, they're going with abandon to make a good show and hope to survive. Fools. Fools, and corpses. Yvonne angled her sword, partially absorbing the initial blow as she took a few steps back. Sparky was tossed away, but no blood. Good enough. Then foxxie and the adventurer went to town with the guy. Another stomped past to deal with their newcomer - Henri? How did he get here- no matter. Focus on the more immediate issue. That left the third of these so-called knights. In a flourish Yvonne sheathed her sword, taking out the mace to deal with this man. She charged in at the slave-knight nearly half a fold larger than herself, knowing full well how the reaction will be. He had the reach, so if he's any good he would try strike her down the moment she came in. Anticipating such blow, Yvonne primed up her inner strength - quite a bit more than the little scuffle with Aaron's henchmen. She'll be quite sore after all this, but that's just Tuesday. The moment the swing comes in she'd strike, not at the wielder but the weapon itself. This would not be advised for most people, for the momentum of a two-handed swing wouldn't so easily be overcome. But Yvonne's strength was nowhere near normal. If it connect, her own blow would've strike with the impact of a veritable battering ram. As for what'll happen to the weapon or the wielder, well, it tend to be not pretty at all. Her own weapons do suffer from this treatment though. Unfortunate, but it is what it is.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword "There was no issue with the weapon delivery, I am conducting an investigation. And my findings brought me here. Would I be able to look over your ledger? I want to make sure if the perpetrators came to your store six days ago." She assumed that the kidnappers could have bought a large supply of weapons. But there could also be a possibility that they could have bought a few weapons. When she was given the ledger from the blacksmith, she started looking over the contents. Looking for any large purchases in the last six days. There was also the possibility that the kidnappers didn't visit the blacksmith, if that was the case then she would visit the general store and the inn after this. Flipping through the pages of anything that sticks out to her. The large knight was silently going through the ledger, speaking only a few moments later. "Is there a man called Birk living around here? What is he like?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Everything didn't look very good for the Wigerjurgen crew. One of their heavies was killed and one was dying in such a short period of time. Chonan intended to finish the wobbling butcher-knight by lunging forward, delivering a mighty thrust on the burly man's bare chest. And there was no resistance when he shove his blade into the man's left chest. Except for the ribcage and hardened muscle. Chonan soon found that his blade was stuck in his victim's abdomen. And being this close, he can feel the giant heart beating and the breathing movement. Looking up again, the butcher-knights holds his sword with his injured hand, and his grin could only mean one thing. __ Over the years, they only taught one thing. To fight, not to think. To fight, not to talk. And lastly, to fight, not to care. Work with the little men and fight bravely, and so they will triumph. That was the only mantra the Slavemaster Ugad expected his gladiator to follow to their death. But the fat master overlooked one thing, many years together in peril would form camaraderie, and so when the last butcher-knight rushed to aid his dying brother, he could only watch in awe. The little nobleman redied her flanged mace, in position to give a nasty counterattack against the rushing knight, but she only went as far as that Standing in the way, expecting the knight to go all out with her, but the giant human was not interested. He rushed passed that noblewoman as if she was just a thorny twig. The noblewoman welcomed and attacked him in return. It was a heavy one, landed square, and could possibly rip his abdominal wall. But the woman was strong so did her opponent and the size advantage was apparent. It didn't matter, he reached his brother in time and swung his halberd down with all of his might. And like a damned monkey that puny swordsman leaped away, leaving his sword embedded in his comrade's chest. The butcher-knight's eyes were set on Chounan and sought to attack him at every opportunity.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" What the- bastard just ignored her. The sheer fucking audacity in that. And even worse, that's exactly the right thing to do. Yvonne's not very much blessed in the vertical department, and consequently she had very limited mobility. Clicking her tongue as her inner strength bled out unused, the mercenary pivot and pursued the slave-knight. Thankfully they're not too far away. In small scale like this, getting flanked was very dangerous and she'd be a fool not to take the chance. A small prime and a sideway strike on the knee of the big bastard. Let's see how he like that.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The blacksmith complied, turning over the ledger though without any other record or prior knowledge to compare with it's nearly impossible to tell if it's accurate. Still, better than nothing. The last shipment was sent three days ago, a veritable wagonload of speartips and basic armor requisitioned by the army. The transaction before that was a number of farm equipment shipped to various villages in the area, two entire months of gap between the two records. "Birk? There's the hunter that goes by that, live on the outskirt with some other hunters. A bit reclusive, but it's quite a walk from his place to the village. I think he's fancying old Gerhard's daughter? But then again so are half the young men in this village." The blacksmith side-eyed the apprentices, who somehow suddenly found extra vigor to throw at their tasks. "If he haven't moved away he should be living at east side. There's another Birk before, but old fella passed away around... eight years ago? That one's buried in the village's grave."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "And the tale keeps twisting! They are both spent! Who would have thought we had a very unusual creature in our little squabbles and game of blood? Did you see what I see? ladies and gents? Did you all—!? Barely minute and two Wigerjurgen fighters are flattened! And I am afraid soon we will see the other one!" Yvonne barely finished with her power strikes. With the giant human still on his warpath to get Chounan, she had all the chances in the world to inflict any debilitating attack she wished. And she did, the mace swung with great force against the side of the butcher knight's knee, dislocating it and causing the burly attacker to lose his balance. As his broad body toppled and landed adrift on the gravel, his mighty weapon hurled as the last resort, hitting Chonan in the process, but luckily he was struck by the hilt. The Butcher-Knight! He! Gives! No! Quarter! A relentless rush! Not letting the sneaky guy catch his breath! But now, look at the black-haired lady! She taunts! She taunts, over and over! A look of disdain and victory in one, aimed square at his opponent! So Graceful, so Deadly it makes your blood run cold! Terrific! Marvelous! This gives a new meaning to the proverb small chilies are the spiciest! Three down, five left. The midgets dropped their last net in horror when one of their brethren suddenly jostled by an impaling arrow, then the one beside him met the same fate. Three left. Two took refuge behind the pillar while the unfortunate one got an arrow on his head when trying to reach for the dropped net. They thought they were safe there, and their plan was to wait. Daggers in hand, obviously outmatched by those heavy weapons, but theirs were coated with poison, so potent it could kill the knight-butcher in one sneak attack and grueling hours after. And that was how they maintained their mutual respect over the years. The butcher was big but they were numerous, and not afraid to die if it meant bringing a single enemy down with them. An arrow landed at the wall behind him, lodging itself in a small gap between the trap doors. The violet luster on its head was the last thing those goblin-humans saw before a fiery explosion claimed them.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "Kaito-san, can you able to charm that bear? Probably it's one of our bear friend's relative... Also I must make haste, Sir Henri needs a help." Without Kaito reply Chounan started to dash. His movement speed is bit faster from Kaito's speed due to his stronger quads. Ki was activated and he will dodge the unexpected attack from the bear upon encounter. The sound of the approaching Shinobi semi-suppressed due to him being a light footed. He grabbed the nearby net and hurled with full body strength onto the scavenging Werewolf at Sir Henri's location. Countermeasure will trigger since Ki is on active. Upon catching the Werewolf with the net, he leaped away from safe distance and impaled the Werewolf by shooting with a Yumi straight it's Weak-spot.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Why, 'ello there! Never seen y'all round here before." The young man greeted back, patting his hands on his pants to clear out most of the salt. He was momentarily taken aback by Cedar's presence but did nothing beyond a few curious glances afterward. "Whoa, yer' a big fella ain'tcha? You've come at the right time friends! It's been a good year, got good harvest and fat cattles. Say, how much can ya eat big guy? We've got just 'bout everything for cheap." The stench of blood was rather thick in the stall, where a rather sizeable pig had been recently butchered. It didn't looks like a one-man job, but the rest probably have left the compound to do other things once the heavywork was done. The smell wasn't exactly for everyone, even if the man looked used to it. "Eh? Ya know our hunter friends!" He glanced a bit worryingly at Cedar again. "They didn't shot one of yer relatives or nothing like that, I hope? Dont think they've bagged a bear in recent times... 'nyway, just walk further down the dirt trail. Their huts are visible from here already, that's all them places. Ain't no one else would live near the tanning stench." A bit ironic coming from someone working at the farm that raised pigs, but there didn't seems to be any malice in the man. He looked earnest for business, in fact.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's stomach rumbled furiously at him. He actually felt rather drained, from not eating much of anything over the past week. In all honesty, the smell of blood and intrails was actually welcome, in terms of appetite-- not so much in terms of the instinctual impulses it was causing to throb in the back of his head. He was finding it very difficult to avoid just straight up stealing one of the bins the man had there, and running off with it. "heh--- Ya could says I is--" he mused, trying to diffuse his internal tensions with light humor. "--Big AN' Hungry. Long walk from Rascade ya know. --Whatcha got for sale tuday?" His stomach made a loud gurgle, and he was glad to be leaning on his walking stick. "Dun suppose ya gots an 'all yer can eats' special tuday does ya?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark As her foe arrived, Yvonne greeted him with a violent blur of steel. But to her annoyance, the opponent did not storm at her as planned. This time because Jazdia's explosive arrow scored a hit on the Werebear's right side. The beast stopped on his track, grunting in pain as it returned to his bipedal stance, clutching his lower jaw before revealing the burned furs and charred skin beneath. While the beast was busy feeling his wound, Yvonne performed a series of jabs and slashes against the standing bear. One attack grazed his chest armor, one struck him right on the forearm, and the third attack never managed to deal any meaningful damage as the werebear parried it aside and angrily bring his whole body down to maul the nobleman. @Remuri With no hesitation, the werewolf snatched Henri's mangled leg and was ready to lift-and-claw him to shreds. But his bravado was rewarded with piercing burns as the golem rapidly heated himself. The werewolf roared, almost humanely so. The pain brought back a flash of ugly memories. How he was branded with red irons by those humans, humiliated, and stripped of his pride. He clutched the heavy man's limb tighter, embracing the pain, and with all of his might, slammed him to the stone pillar nearby. He howled. A curse to the humans who laughed at his misfortune, to those who were entertained by his plight, and to whoever stood in his way. A net suddenly entrapped him, and it brought back the day when those humans captured him as a cub. His eyes glared at the short human male with sheer malice. Not wasting a growl, he was so angry that all in his mind was to get there and exact vengeance. No armor ever survived his razor-sharp claws, but the Wigerjurgen's net was unusually tough, even after years of competing with them, he knew escaping it couldn't be done easily. That one shortie started to aim his bow at him. Seeing no quick way out, Grond rolled his body forward, ensnared be damned, and felt the arrow stuck on his back. He saw that Gerald was looking down on him, and he remembered that advice of his, to temper his rage and think clearly. He hated him with passion even more than that obnoxious announcer, but the bastard had a point. Finally using his brain, Grond held the net at one point to keep it taut and then tear it in a single line. With his head unraveled first, then hand and torso, he broke free, and in no time chased the short bastard with a bow. Oh wow, oh wowser! We've seen Grond the Champion toying with his prey many times, but today the roles are reversed! We've got a circus show going on here! Clever move from our newbie! But oh watch it! He better think as quickly as his legs! --- Where was Jazdia amidst the chaos? After hurting the Bear, the elf relocated to the left and realign herself with the gaps she aimed before. The result of the previous explosion was unsatisfactory. The wall was the real deal. Seeing that there was no way she could help her allies by shooting her most devastating attack while they wrestled with the enemy, the elf opted for the more pragmatic approach and enchanted her arrows. The environment was against her, so she imbued the delayed command with a prolonged time to trigger and shot two of her arrows at the same gap, two meters higher than the first.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Aw, fuck. The momentary stagger messed with Yvonne's timing and her strength sapped away by the time the werebear closed in. The sore hadn't set it yet, but the moment she stopped moving it'll all come at once. Bugger, but that's for future her to worry about. Now she had an angry armored bear trying to eat her face and she's running out of options. So, let's go back to the old adage - when in doubt, go for the nuts. Utilizing the momentum, the parried poleaxe was spun before sent thrusting into the unarmored crotch. Not like the dangly bits was visible, but it should be there still. Yvonne wasn't actually sure if the bear was male, but fun fact: low blows like this wasn't actually gender-specific. If this fails, well, she's likely screwed six ways from Sunday. But that's for future Yvonne to worry about.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri grimaced from the impact. It wasn't like he felt pain-- More, his jaw was jammed into the top of his head from the impact, causing him to make a face that resembled a grimace, before he fell to the ground with a thud. Thankfully that overdressed fool of a samurai was taking the heat off him. He'd be thankful, if he felt it would do any good. Instead, he started crawling as fast as he could toward the next bit of armor he could absorb, while repairing himself as best he could. The short noble woman was busy playing tag with an enormous bear-man that could well have been cedar's angrier, (and probably stupider, despite initial appearances of the young bear he had met the day before) and more physical older brother. The shimmer of a lovely steel breastplate caught his eye, and he decided he wanted it. Yvonne switched her tactic into a full on crotch-assault-- a thing that he was glad he was no longer vulnerable to in any capacity, given the intensity with which the woman went for it-- while he closed in on the dead giant, and his extremely useful steel helmet and pauldron...</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The attack deflected with a twang, for normal humans that recoil alone would have shattered the bone, but the noblewoman, either she was above normal or just due to sheer of ingenuity used the push to feed her own momentum and swing the poleaxe back to the bear's unarmored crotch. Nasty burns he had there! Holly shit! —Hold on! Something's happening here! The small lady is at it again! The two of them are at a standoff, but she is using the weapon thrice longer than her size! What is happening here?! Is she hoping to take on Ted's gigantic bulk with that?! Unbelievable if you see how enormous the difference in both size and power! I can't emphasize this enough—! The balls! Right onto the balls! We have witnessed many nuts busted in this sorry arena but the bear's nut! Holly hell! What an ugly sight! But we all must bear it together!" It was Stritzel turn to rush from her throne. Despite her butler attentively ushering her, the old hag outpaced him. As she arrived at the edge, she watched in horror as the small lady from the newbie team castrated her occasional nightly comfort with a nasty-looking halberd. "NOOOOO!!! MY TEDDY BEAR NOO!!" angry and sad, she turned to Gerrald! "Forfeit this match, now! Gerrald! Don't you see these newbies are not ordinary people?! *** The bear did not howl, did not growl, nothing. The pain was so immense he was not even registering his master's cry. But when he did, he had already made his stance, and when fully woke up, he held the polearm with his injured arm and let his body fall, giving the little lady tough choices; either abandon her weapon or get mauled. The noblewoman failed to make her call in time and the bear's paw swatted her aside. Sending Yvonne flying and tumbling across the arena. It was due to pure sheer luck that she didn't move from her original position and get the paw instead. Had she tried to dodge backward, she would have faced the full wrath of the bear's claw, and the result would have been much more grisly. Still, she took the full brunt. Some broken ribs and dislocations were in order.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Hokay. Bear, mauled. Wolf, sliced into ribbons. And to top it off, the opposing portcullis blew up. Yvonne, as the only one that's on a very temporary break from all the fighting, saw everything. And their target's barely contained panic. She chuckled as she took a few tentative steps. The pain was still there, but had faded into a persistent dull throb in the background. She laughed. And laughed. Her steps turned into a stride, before breaking into a sprint. Straight for the gaping opening made by Sparky. Ooh, got to be quick, quick. While those audiences still clogging the venue's exit. The mercenary rolled her shoulders as she went, feeling the reduced range of motion. Shush, endure a bit more. Just a bit more. Rest will come later, when these fucks were dead under her boots. Yes, all she need to do was to find a way up there. After that? Like a rabid fox in a henhouse.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] There was a commotion in the house as Matilda draw closer, sounds like a few people arguing very loudly. The voice overlaid with each other to the point that it's difficult to make out what's being said, but insults were about alongside bits like "escape" and "dead". The apprentice blacksmith received the coin and stood there, unsure of what to do, even when the knight ignored him and entered. Three pair of eyes turned toward the intruder. Two of them didn't look any different than ordinary peasants, simple but durable and practical clothing commonly worn by just about every lowborn. The third one wasn't dressed much differently but was absolutely filthy, eyes bloodshot like he hadn't slept for quite some time. A quiver of arrows hung on his hips and more were packed on a table next to a backpack he's in the process of filling with all manner of preserved food, the handle of a few daggers visibly sticking out on the edge. "Who the hell are you?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan saw Yvonne rushing on the open gap that Jaz made. He performed Chiburi and sheathed his blade. "Suffer no more... You are free now." he prayed with his one hand for the deceased Werewolf. The three should be fine and enough, the more important thing to do is to escort the noblewoman. He then started to accelerate and chased Yvonne from getting in. He slipped through the gap and slide smoothly with his two feet to reduced the acceleration. He found Yvonne alone inside the interior, looking around for way up.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri felt the bear finally tear the plate free, as it tossed it, and him, aside like old garbage. This suited him fine-- He really just wanted the metal the beast was wearing. Needed it in fact-- he was so damaged, he needed a heavy coating to be able to withstand walking for any distance. He really did not pay much attention, as he commenced assimilation of the steel, and the make-shift full-body reinforcement. He plucked the eyeball from his throat, where it had been shoved down when he had been slammed into the pillar, and popped it into his dull grey eye socket, letting it spin and click into place, before getting up and observing the room-- The frenzied cries of the announcer being quickly cut off by a deafening explosion. He was thankful to have been thrown behind the third pillar, as the debris rained on either side of him. He surveyed the room-- Yvonne sprang up like a rabid animal, and dashed up the stairs through the enormous gaping wound in the wall. The samurai slew the wolf that had foolishly tried to pick him up earlier-- and the bear lay on the ground gurgling and snorting blood with his scalp peeled back like the skin of a ripe fruit. His thoughts once more returned to the kindly, and childlike bearman he had been acquainted with the day before. It struck him how at once, both of them could be so similar, and yet so different. He supposed circumstance played a great role, and he wondered how this bear might have lived, had things been different. It was not like they were a common sight-- Creatures like the two of them were so rare as to be myth, which is precisely why they sometimes ended up in places like this. For a single, solitary moment, he was sorry he had burned the beast the way he had. Carefully, and with great deliberation, he tottered rather than walked, toward the prone bear, who only growled at his approach, before cursing at him. "GO ON AND FINISH ME THEN, YOU FILTHY LUMP OF CLAY." Being angry was an entirely natural reaction to having your body beaten, battered, torn, and burned-- He himself was so angry he felt he could rip somebody's head clean off their shoulders, and he knew exactly which head he wanted-- but it really wasn't this bear. "I didn't come here for that." said Henri coldly and flatly. "So I will do no such thing. I just wanted you to know, you are not alone." The bear snorted a disgusted laugh, before speaking again. "THE FUCK YOU'RE GOING ON ABOUT-- MUST HAVE MARBLES FOR BRAINS, THE WAY YOU PRATTLE." "There's another bearman, you idiot." Henri retorted flatly. "Outside. Free. I met him yesterday. I thought you might want to know." "... WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THIS, ...FUCKING MUD-HEAD... TO RUB SALT IN MY WOUNDS? TO GLOAT AS I DIE?" "No. To give you hope." Finished with his good deed for the day, he levered his now considerably heavier frame to turn around, and slowly ascend the stairs behind the group that had dashed up earlier. An insanely crazed looking old crone dashed through the wide door and around him, cursing "BUTCHER!" at him, as she passed, rushing up to the downed bear man in a flurry of tears. He didn't care. He had his own fish to fry, and she wouldn't get away so easily.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia followed. As she reached the stairs, the interference felt weakened, rapidly. She could use her enchanted vision again, and immediately, as she hiked from one stair to another, the elf utilized her power to scan the entire place. There he was! Hhite-haired, prominent jaw! Jazdia climbed two more stairs and reached Yvonne's wrist. "That's not the way! Follow me! Gerrald is heading toward the catacombs. It seemed our guy doesn't want to leg it to the surface. He has five goons blocking the way for him." As the elf passed Henri, she took a moment to look at him with a mix of amusement and confusion. His bulky and unnatural interior no longer amazed her after the whole debacle. "Mister Henri. I am surprised to see you here. I presume Matilda sent you? You are... quite resourceful to be able to find us here." Then Jazdia rushed toward the aisle, noticing how the pathing, the lighting, and the overall atmosphere gradually changed as they went deeper into the guild's massive tunnel system.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As Chounan is ahead from the rest of the party. He decreases his speed so that the party can see him in sight especially Jazdia herself. He will change course of the direction upon the elf's instruction. He keep ahead to the party just to make sure that pathing is clear. If some of the enemy camp from the side of the narrow path, Ki will detect them nd his quick reaction will counter who do sneaky attacks.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- "Of course." Solomon reached his hand into his cloak as he fished around his belongings, feeling for a small pouch he carried that held the coin. After a bit, he pulled out the pouch. Soft metal disks clinked against each other as the pouch shifted. Solomon opened the pouch with both hands, before reaching into it with one. The coins jingled more as Solomon palmed one coin at a time. He placed the collected coins onto the stall next to the pile of food the farmer had collected. Two gold coins. "That should more than cover it. Thank you for your hospitality. We should go visit the hunters soon." Solomon stashed the pouch back under his cloak. He wandered back towards the road, pausing in wait as Cedar finshed eating and/or packing. So the houses in the distance did belong to those Birk named. If one of them was angry, maybe it had something to do with either the events in the royal forest, or the demise of Birk. So far the lead was promising, but hopefully it lead down the mystery of the prince. Once Cedar was done, it wouldn't be long before they'd come across the hunter's cabins and perhaps some answers. At least he'd hope they could match the faces to the names.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia led them toward the underground tunnels with many turns and crossings. Room after room, hall after hall, and warehouse after warehouse. Wide was the reach of the Black Serpent guild, almost like a prosperous empire. And with that, it was not surprising The Guild Master would cling to his hard-earned wealth, even if the world were burning around him. Many valuables were stored here, from basic needs like flour and sugar to intoxicating beverages. Then, crates of irons, sacks of cotton, sugar, and one particular crate that piqued Jazdia's interest the most; It was full of sulfur, and next to it was a distilling table with several round metal casings stored on top of it. The smell and shape were identical to smoke bombs found at the park. She pocketed a casing, and then, the hunt continued. Probably thinking he had managed to fool them by leading them to the surface, the head of the snake must be very smug with his cunningness he only stationed five of his men to guard the crossroads that lead to his hideout. "Listen, Gerrald's underling!" she called out. Her voice echoed in the cold and damp tunnel. "You are in the way between a criminal and Kindeance's Justice. Drop your weapon and show your hands where I can see them if you value your foul skin! Or I will tear you apart from tail to snout!" Some thugs did not heed that warning and Jazdia intended to keep her word by preparing her explosive arrow. But one, mohawk guy who froze in place with his hands raised makes everything a little bit more problematic. One arrow struck two henchmen, while Chonan took the initiative and ended two others. There was nothing bombastic when that mohawk redhead cowered in fear as the group passed him. "I yield! You promised right?!" The path was getting dark, and after more sprinting, they arrived at a cavernous hall, It was much bigger than any chambers they had passed so far. It had two doors directed to tunnels at the Northwest and Northeast, and another one at the south where their target made his escape. To the middle of the hall, the floor vanished and fell to a river, no, more like a huge, man-made canal that was part of the city's sewage system. The water that ran through it was black, foul, and filthy and the stream looked deep and swift. Crossing a wooden bridge with rope rails, the party reached half the hall and rushed for the last race. Their target was hiding in a bunker and all they needed to do to reach the said bunker was through this tunnel, go right and then, left again... The door was locked. An explosive arrow with a directional blast would do the trick. Breach and clear! The party rushed in as the wooden door shattered. Jazdia was the first to reach the stunned guild master, bashing his hand with her bow as he tried to pick a lantern to burn the already pilings documents. The lantern crashed to the floor and topped sideways, extinguished, while the owner... also crashed, to the wall, face first. "Got you! Didn't see that coming, huh?" Jazdia grabbed the man by his white mane and bashed him some more until she could hear his nose cracking. Then she let him tumble backward, hands clutching his bleeding mug. "Kaito, check that documents. If they all are important, get a sack or something." "Fuck! Do you know who you are messing with? You are dead! You are fucking dead! You hear me you bitch?" But Jazdia paid him no mind. "Samurai! Take care of our man. Make sure he is unarmed. I don't care if we have to parade him naked." Then she moved closer to the guild master. "Nice tunnel you've got here. I believe you had several interesting guests last week. Let's say the Kindeance Monarch wants to have a word with you, with four horses, ropes, and a hatchet. How's that sound?"</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword "I can help you get even with your brother's killer, if we do then need to work together to do that. What can I do to let you trust me?" Now dropping all pretenses of her lie. Wanting to get some information out of him. But the little voice from before was telling her other wise. Ignoring said voice,as she didnt want more issues arising.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Jazdia ran past him and up the stairs, quipping about his being resourceful to find her here. Now was not the time or place to discuss 'business'-- they were clearly in a hurry for something, suggesting time was precious-- AND there were more than two dozen witnesses within earshot all clamoring over each other to escape the compromised seating area-- Discussion of a clandestine mission in those circumstances was beyond foolish. He said nothing, but gave her a stern look as she leaped past. "That's not the way! Follow me! Gerrald is heading toward the catacombs. It seemed our guy doesn't want to leg it to the surface. He has five goons blocking the way for him." she called to the others that had preceded him. So, it was a man name "Gerald" they were after. That's at least more than Matilda's investigation had turned up. He wanted some real leads so much he could practically taste it. These fools would easily outpace him if he did not use more unconventional modes of travel. Abruptly, he sank through the floor as if it had become quicksand, and vanished from view. In the total darkness of the spaces between the floors and walls, the only sense he had was was sound-- Thankfully, sound traveled better through solid surfaces than through the air. He strained to detect the footfalls of the group, as they charged in the opposite direction of the thunder of the people escaping the stadium. He could detect when an exit through the dark void of the walls and floor were near, by the way the sound distorted at the interface, and he used this to his advantage, taking as direct a path through the void as possible to keep pace with their movements. Abruptly, the sounds of their footfalls stopped, and he feared he had lost them-- Then a deafening wave of pressure went through the material around him, indicated an explosion. That had to be the elf woman, Jazdia-- He made a beeline for that location, as straight and narrow as possible. As he approached, muffled speech was present, but he couldn't make it out until he got nearer. He could tell from the tone that it was not friendly or polite, and that it was female in origin. As he approached, the words became distinct enough to understand. She was in an enclosed space just beneath him. "Nice tunnel you've got here. I believe you had several interesting guests last week. Let's say the Kindeance Monarch wants to have a word with you, with four horses, ropes, and hatched. How's that sound?" "Sounds like a public spectacle. Fun for young and old-- Bring the kids." He said, as he emerged head first through the ceiling, before tipping forward to expose his chest and legs while still embedded into the roof overhead, then continuing the tipping motion to bring his legs through first, then landing with a loud clang. "It sounds like you caught a little bird." he mused aloud at Jaz, before directing his gaze at the terrified fat man. "I'm sure it's to find out what song he sings? Shall we find out?" His eyes glowed a terrible crimson in the gloomy lamplit illumination of the dank cellar room, before he turned his head to face Jazida "Or is there some other reason I got rewarded for tracking you down by having my ass handed to me repeatedly?" "I ain't tellin' you nuthin!" the man spat "you'll all be dead for this!" Henri chuckled without moving his mouth, or showing any sign of outward movement or mirth. "You can't kill what's not alive. Surely you noticed. Now, please answer the lady's questions. I'm old, and impatient, and I am... DYING.. to know what you have to say, little man-- I can be most persuasive when I need to be." He held up a single finger, which promptly began to very visibly heat up and glow cherry red.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Pop The odd noise was Yvonne uncorking a bottle of whiskey she snatched off a random crate on the way, the mercenary taking a sniff before chugging a good few mouthful. That'll help numb the pain now that the adrenaline had slowly ebbed away from her system. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, wincing a bit as she touched the split lips before noticing that everyone's looking her direction. "What? I ain't getting smashed, dont worry about that." The cork was returned to its place as Yvonne turned back toward the entrance, twirling her sword in the process. "I'll keep watch outside just in case. Yell if you need me, yeah?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia wasn't so sure if she liked the man's tone. But she remained focused; the prize was already at hand, and it would be better to leave it relatively unspoiled. "No, need. We are done here." the elf said flatly. Then with her instruction, Chonan sacked the man's head and tied his hand. Muffled noises and all manner of curses known to men seeped from the burlap fabric, and the man kept wriggling until Chonan hit him at the base of his neck. Then they headed to the door. "We will hand the man to Fred and we will see what his torturer has in store."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia shrugged, then with her typical trained smile, she replied. "Distrustful? No... unless if you really have something to hide. But let's omit the tedium of scrutinizing the trustworthiness of all parties because we don't have all the time in the world right now, don't you agree?" "This Guildmaster was responsible for the infiltration and the escape of the intruders. By providing an underground passage that leads to the catacomb, and to an extent, the memorial park where they almost had your Highness' neck. We believe there is more than just that, but that will depend on how good Fred's jailer is when it comes to extracting the information." There was a purple glint in Jazdia's blue eyes as she continued. "That is all I can afford to say."</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito followed Jazdia and the others through the tunnels and corridors until they met their target. Some of the thugs tried to put up some resistance but those were quickly cleaned up. One familiar face even yielded before putting up a fight. The kitsune gave the coward a quick thumbs up as he passed him by. The elf breached the final door with an explosive arrow and everyone stormed inside. Much to Kaito's surprise the guild master was quickly overpowered and taken into custody. Jazdia had slammed the man a few times into the wall and apart from a bit of verbal resistance, nothing happened. Was it really this easy? The boss elf quickly barked her orders and directed the kitsune to check the documents on the floor. The fox piled them all up and started to scan through them one by one looking for any evidence that would tie the Black Serpent guild to the assasination attempt on the king. However he didn't get far before a somewhat expected guest broke his concentration with his rather unique entrance and demanding voice. Kaito looked up from his pile of documents and stared rather annoyed at the golem. "Hey Iron man. I don't know who you are or what you want but please zip it till we're done with our work here and out savely. I prefer to spend as little time in Geralds murder dungeon as possible so keep it down until I've fininish going through his paperwork. Thank you." The kitsune didn't wait for the golem's answer and simply hoped that he would shut his mouth till the point that they were safe. After that he could stir up as much trouble as he wanted but the fox didn't feel anything for spending unnecessary time in the Black Serpents guild headquarters. Quickly Kaito continued with his quest to find anything that could like the guild with the assasination attempt. There were documents with all kinds of shady and illegal stuff in the pile but the first few contained nothing he was looking for. The first thing of note were procurement letters of various contraband items. All the names on the letters appeared to be alliasses and some of them were rather interesting. Another item of note was a receipt for a shipment of sulfur. One of the main ingredients for making smoke bombs. The fox quickly put those aside and continued to scour through the pile of paperwork. Most of the documents were unrelated to the assasination incident. However after a while another item caught Kaito's attention. It was a detailed map of Rascade. Allone it would not be that noteworthy but underneath it was a second piece of semi-transparent paper that could be folded over the rascade map. Once that was done it provided an overlay of what appeared to be an underground tunnel system and its location relative to Rascade. Continuing his search the Kitsune finally stumbled upon a ledger containing a vast number of financial transactions. There wasn't enough time to go through it in detail but it was interesting enough to add it to the documents he had filtered out. From what Kaito had found it was clear that the Black Serpent Guild had the items in stock that had been used during the assasination attempt and was aware of the existence of the complex tunnel system beneath Rascade. Kaito quickly placed all the documents he found in a leather bag and walked up to the elf. "Jaz, based on the documents I found the Black Serpents Guild certainly had the items and intricate knowledge of the underground tunnel systems required for the assasination attempt. I think we got enough and should make our exit."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Jaz, based on the documents I found the Black Serpents Guild certainly had the items and intricate knowledge of the underground tunnel systems required for the assasination attempt. I think we got enough and should make our exit." "Very well!" Jazdia checked the findings, intrigued by the map, but felt the evidence was somewhat lacking. Scanning the room for one last time. She found a container buried in the wall, and there was a thread from it to Gerrald's desk, straight into one of the drawers. Heating up her blade to an amethyst hue, Jazdia walked toward a painting that seemed out of the place (seriously who would have hung a painting of a green meadow in an underground bunker?) and toppled it aside, revealing a metal container with locking mechanism. With two quick slashes, the door fell, and there she found assortments of scrolls, a copy of that map, and a small book, a journal. Quickly she skimmed the scrolls. Those were neatly written letters with the name of the sender omitted. Several of it was vague, but the newest ones discussed the catacombs escape tunnel and how his Jormungand had found and connected the tunnel with their own system. Another letter describing agents that need to be guided throughout the system. No dates were specified. She glanced at the head-sacked Gerrald before securing that extra evidence into her leather bag. "Let's go." Jazdia led the team with Kaito following from behind. Behind the Fox Youkai were Yvonne and Chonan, guarding their prisoner who kept mumbling something incoherent. He shook his head and wagged his ashen ponytail "It's itchy! Take it off or you will regret this!" Deciding to not regret anything, the party moved in haste as planned, Jazdia told them they will take the left tunnel that leads to the catacombs. The opposition should be less crowded on that route. They finally arrived at the canal-hall. But something was amiss. There were soldiers, some with navy uniforms storming from the right tunnel. There were twelve of them and the last one that emerged from that dark tunnel was a familiar face. "Soldier, halt!" Two soldiers who had crossed the bridge took their position close to the bridge, while two others flanked Jazdia. There were many scenarios playing in her mind right now and at some point. the elf's thoughts raced to Henri but did not make eye contact with that golem man. "Mr. Delving... Why am I not surprised? I suppose Mr. Tutor informed you about our investigation and thus here you are, moved by goodwill and a sense of duty to give this humble troupe of investigators a helping hand?" Standing menacingly with both hands on his waist, the Constable glanced at their Plus One with clear contempt. "It doesn't matter." he rasped, his voice causing the guild master to straighten up his posture in an unknown zeal. "I see that you have done a great service to the Crown and Rascade. But I will take it from here. Miss Jazdia, please hand over that man to us. We will take care of him." "Oh, we can bring him together just fine, you know. Our boss is just a few dozen meters above. We can present our findings together. Don't you agree?" "No, I don't think it can be arranged." One of the flanking soldiers approached Jazdia, but the elf signaled him to not take any step closer. "Why not, Mr. Constables? What makes you think this man is so important you have to secure him right here and right now?" Aaron Delving's frown was clearly visible even in this dimmed hall. "Back to you. Why are you insisting on making this difficult?! Goodness, I don't believe it! One seal and you think you are above me, who have served the king for years and did all of his biddings exceptionally! I am the Chief Constable, it is my job to present this... this traitor to the king himself. Not people with unknown qualities like you lots. Though, I admit your capability, so come! Hand over the man." Jazdia sighed and then suppressed the urge to rub her nose. There was a foul stench permeated in the air, stinkier than the sewer water below, she activated her eyes. Some of Gerrald's men had been reassembled in many checkpoints, and some had already made their way inside the tunnel and joined forces with the remaining soldiers. "Ah, so that's how it is." She mumbled. Oh well, look at how smug Gerrald was behind that burlap! so this encounter was planned. "What are you saying? Time is up. Give him up or we will take him by force, your call." With a ragged smile, Jazdia looked back and said: "You heard that." Everyone looked at her in confusion, but the Samurai released him anyway. The flanking soldier grabbed Gerrald's shoulder and removed the sack, leering intensely at Jazdia as they passed. "See you later bitch!" Waiting at the other side of the bridge was Delving, like a disappointed father fetching a troubled son. Jazdia kept her cool, while the rest of her team looks disgusted by the travesty displayed. Nobody knew what she was thinking, not even herself. "I am immensely grateful for your cooperation." He said and it seemed to be the only word he said without any hint of exasperation. The constable raised his hand. At the right side of the tunnel, lined four members of the navy. He, as their commander smugly proclaimed. "But I can't let you leave." The weapon that was perceived as a spear turned out to be a long musket, and they were starting to take their aim. So did Jazdia. At that moment there was a twang of bowstring: an arrow whistled in the air and pierced the guild master from the back. He gasped, reaching his chest where a glowing, crystalized steel made its exit and stuck out. As Gerrald collapsed, a voice rang! "Kill them all!" Followed by a small tremor... but nobody knew where it came from. A skirmish had begun, and Jazdia quickly leaped toward the stone pillar to her left. Her eyes activated, and as she saw four more men rushing from the bridge, she blinked, and an explosion followed. That small bridge collapsed, and their poor prisoner launched mid-air before landing with a thud at the edge of the south floor.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar thanked the man, then shoved a fist full of the raw bacon into his mouth like a greedy child eating sweets. It was smokey and salty, but the fat was amazing. His dad had told him that he REALLY SHOULD cook pork first, to avoid getting real sick with achy muscles, but right now he did not care, and was beyond hungry. Really, if the bacon was cured right, the salt and smoke should have solved the issue on their own. He followed it up with one of the whole cauliflower, enjoying the satisfying crunchiness. It was by no means "A meal", but it would have to do. Solomon was clearly very eager to get on the trail, and spending a few hours cooking did not seem like his idea of a good time (No matter how much Cedar felt differently-- It was bad manners to upset the person that just paid for dinner, after all.). Instead, he grabbed the large cast iron cauldron the man heaved and rolled out of the door, stuffed the majority of his swag inside it, then tottered off toward the far edge of the farmer's field, where it abutted the treerow, near the path they had walked up. It would make a decent spot to cook up dinner later, with ready access to deadfalls for the fire, and wood to work with to make bowls and spoons with. He snatched out some carrots, before putting the large water barrel down next to it, happy to get it off his back for awhile, then sat the smaller half-barrel of salted bacon down beside both, then laid the hood of his robe over the top to keep dogs and bugs out. He really should have asked for a canvas to put down, but he was so fixated on dinner, the idea of "Not Stopping" did not occur to him until the transaction was completed. He would just have to go around with his head uncovered for the time being. Crunching on 3 carrots at once, he tottered up behind Solomon, and wandered further up the path to go interview the locals.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Whoa! Aww shucks ser, that's very generous of ya. Ah'll be right back, kind sers!" He weighted and then bit into the coins and ascertained that they were, in fact, gold coinage. With a significant pep to his steps the farmhand disappeared further into the compound, before came lugging back a sizeable rendering vat at record's time. He watched with a hint of confusion as Cedar moved the stuff to somewhere else before the idea came to him and he naturally blurted it out without reserve. "Oh, ya 'ave business with Birk innit? Ya can leave me ta' stew these if ya wish." Well, he'd ask Hilda because he had no idea how to cook but really. With the amount of tip the entire farm crew wouldn't mind sparing a couple hours to help with this. "Thankya kindly mister!" Was the real cheerful reply. "Muh friend here seems ta be in a right hurry--- I'm much abliged! Be back later, fo sho!" As Cedar trundled further and further away, the young farmhand rolled his sleeve and set to prepare enough meal for twenty.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword "Before we left, I will do a quick search for any more clues. There may have been a clue you may have missed." Matilda wanted to search for any clues that she could relay to the others. Hoping that she would finally make some progress, even though meeting Reinhold was a good discovery. The large knight started searching through every cupboard, drawer and container in the house. Returning a few moments later to the three men, keeping her findings on her person. And unknown to others. "Okay, I am ready to go. Lead on." She eyed Reinhold, making sure he does not do anything rash. She did not want to harm a potential lead.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] There's really nothing special in the house. It looked like it's lived by two people, looking at the simple bed at the cutlery. A part of the ceiling was leaking and had been left leaking for days end, looking at the puddle accumulating underneath of it. All in all, it was practically destitute. Not an uncommon sight among the peasantry, unfortunately. "Uh, ma'am. He fell asleep." Pointed out one of the two tag-alongs. Reinhold was seated on a chair by the table, but he's quite obviously out of it if the light snoring was any indication. "He was rubbing him eyes, said gonna rest it for a sec. Then he's out like a baby. Man prolly 'aven't slept for damn near a week." The other added helpfully.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark " If I may be so bold as to suggest-- we should take some of these fools alive, so they can sing about their keeper to the inquisitor." "If you can do that, be my guest..." Despite saying that, the prospect was laughable at best, but she didn't fancy explaining that the alignment of these soldiers couldn't be determined by the action of their captain alone. Sure they might be crooked, but the best answer you can get from them would be a defense that they were just following orders, and they were here to exterminate bandits and traitors. And here right now we were the bandits and the traitors. Jazdia peeked from her cover and saw them reloading. Taking a stance to aim her bow, she downed two musketeers before ducking back into her cover. At that time, suddenly there was a thick fog covering their side of the hall. Two muzzle reports echoed, but their shots failed to find any target and punched the walls, ricocheting, and eventually landing in a loud clang. With her eyes, Jazdia saw a soldier on their side of the platform rolling on the floor, groaning in pain, the ricocheted bullet struck him. It seemed to the other two also had been dealt with by Chonan and Kaito. "Heya boss. Quite deep up in shit creek we are today." Indeed, but it surely couldn't get any worse than that, right?</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Regulating her breath to be more steady, Jazdia tried her best to ignore the foul stench and stayed focused. The haze had been dispersed, but the darkness remained, and she started to feel a burning sensation in her eyes. To prevent the situation of having to choose between ultravision or enchanted arrows, Jazdia blinked and downgraded her vision. The perfect see-through view was replaced by a more mana-efficient vision that could still show general terrain and people, but not through the walls. And once again, she jumped from that pillar, shooting an enchanted arrow at the wooden railings that protect Aaron and his men. The arrow exploded, but it did not shatter the barrier. There was a faint light spreading in that area, and Aaron was standing there unmoving with a sword drawn. At the tip of the blade, a brilliant light manifested and then spreads into a protective dome made of light that grows slowly. This kind of barrier was the worst. Every attack directed at it would strengthen and prolong the duration. And now those musketeers were retreating inside it. Where they could aim their shot without fearing retaliation. Jazdia canceled the enchantment and shot her regular arrow toward the running musketeer. It hit the side of his torso, but the man kept going and reached the barrier. Who would have thought he brought the weapons of his fallen comrades with him?</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "If you can do that, be my guest..." "Heya boss. Quite deep up in shit creek we are today." Henri positively beamed. " My lady, I would be positively delighted to." The fog began lifting as he sacrificed some of the metal surrounding him, mostly from his back (which he presumed would not need as much protection for this plan), to fashion a long metal rod, which he poked into the water from above, producing an audible hiss, and lengthening it until he had determined the depth of the river. " Goodness, That is quite deep, --with a deep current too. Try not to fall in, kids." he mused, as he continued working, withdrawing the length of iron rod, then altering it to have alternating triangular flanges along its length where one could step or climb, and a long 90 degree flattened hook on the end, before leveling it over a shoulder, and dropping into the inky black filth with a sploosh. Undaunted, and weighing several hundred kilograms, he could feel the current tugging on him, but could resist its flow. He marched as close to straight forward as the combination of features allowed, until he could detect the metal of Delving's uniform, and his men's weapons, altering his course to correct for the flow of the water, and the otherwise complete lack of landmarks to navigate by. As he got in range, he reached out with his will, and willed the musket from the remaining mook's hands, toward the back of Delving's head, as hard as he could. Something-- he could not really see what, due to the turbidity of the water, prevented the attempt. Irritated, and undaunted, he lifted the hooked pole up, and swept it along the edge of the canal, aiming to snare a foot.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Up above, Aaron Delving was completely unfazed by the spectacular show. "What a dork!" Indeed, there were several unexpected things happened. He looked at the other side of the platform and glanced at Gerrald's mangled body with a certain amount of condolences. His father will not like it, but at least one potential witness was 'out of the picture' and that was what mattered. Now, for the optional one; he needed to clear out the trashes. His only regret was he didn't bring enough archers to keep them pinned. But his men had redistributed the musket and regrouped around him. Inside his barrier. Sadly the time was insufficient to salvage the spare gunpowder and bullets. But this would do for now. They just needed to dig in. His reinforcement will arrive soon. "Steady! Don't shoot unless you have them in your sight." Yes, Go ahead and try it! Once they ran for the tunnel, they would have nowhere to hide and no space to dodge. Deep below, Henri the golem trudged to the other side of the canal, walking slowly toward the other end of the bridge where Delving and his men are making their stand. After a long and tedious journey of swimming in filth, he arrived at his destination. Using his telekinetic power he tried to snatch their metal weapons, but something negated that attempt. Not giving up, the golem launched his hook and had it swept along the edge of the canal, aiming to snare a foot. Something repelled the metal thing and tossed it sideways, yet, it caused the hook to snag something that wasn't a human foot, rather, it was a metal pole that held the wooden railings near Aaron's company. *** Jazdia retreated back to the pillar. Biting her lips as she realized that the only hope was through the south tunnel, but Aaron's men seemed to have marked it as the only place to spend their bullet. "Miss Rosenving. Would you kindly move to that pillar?" She pointed at the middle pillar closer to the mouth of the south tunnel. "Go! While they are still reloading their weapon!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne took a glance around as Sparky left cover and traded some shots. Oh boy, a barrier? That ain't looking good. With how Aaron being completely and utterly eclipsed by his brother in every single way possible, it's easy to forget that he's not actually a complete waste of oxygen and had House Delving's extensive resource to improve himself with. The barrier looked simple, but for such things it didn't need to be complicated. The boss returned to cover soon after. There's the order to move, Yvonne didn't question and sprint toward the directed pillar, keeping her stance low in a zig-zag to minimize chance to hit. Were the enemies reloading? Probably. Would she make it easy for them to shoot at her? Hell nah.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri could barely peek above the rim of the ledge from his current position. He could see Delving and his men taking shelter inside the glowing dome-like barrier he was projecting from his sword. He was using some kind of gaudy looking claymore. The men under his wing were all wearing metal breastplates, but inside the barrier, they were beyond his reach. One of them appeared to be having a hard time breathing, and another was leveling his musket to fire at the group cross the waterway. If the swing with the hook earlier had been indication, the barrier is what had arrested his prior attempt to smack Delving in the back of his damn head. Cowardly prig was cowering behind that glowing curtain like a smug little bastard. Well, There was more than one way to deal with somebody like him--- Like trapping him over here, and forcing his pansy ass to get his hands dirty himself to get loose. And he knew JUST the way to make him do it. Timidly and very slowly, he rose from the water enough to hang over the side of the canal ledge, first the left side, to get access to the iron covering his hip and torso on that side. The heating would make a bright light, and that is unfortunate, but it may also distract Delving's goons for a moment. The heat conduction through his body would begin to boil the water still surrounding his right arm and right leg, still submerged where he was clinging to the side of the canal. This was risky shit, but it was necessary. Work was slow and difficult, due to trying to equalize the draw of material from that side of his body to avoid having a total and complete hole in the reinforcement, and due to the heat losses from partial submersion, but he commenced work on construction of a melon or large pumpkin sized "sphereoid", with a complex dimpled and form-stiffened surface from the sacrificed metal.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Aaoron counted that it had been ten minutes of grueling stalemate. Stalemate, the word itself felt exaggerated. Those imbeciles barely held their ground; they were helpless, desperately hiding behind the pillar like a cornered rat. Even then, he thought about an alternative plan. Something his brother had taught him but he kept forgetting. But that day in the office had given him a valuable lesson, to always come prepared, and be introspective. And that had served him well today. That elven woman was no ordinary archer and the amount of destruction she could dish out in a single spell was staggering. But again, he had come prepared, this protection spell will not fail him. This was his signature, one that he had honed over the years. While his father always had a bias toward the old adage that the best defense is the good defense, his brother had told him everyone was born with different gifts, and he should just be himself and improve what he was good at. In the middle of his self-admiring, the constable saw something was steaming in the murky water below. He stepped forward to peer at it and found that pesky tutor hanging for dear life on the rim not far from him and his men. He was holding a glowing metal sphere. Whatever it was, it revealed his figure rather clearly "You! Sailor," he commanded, and the best shooter in the group responded. He lowered his musket, and Aaron only needed to point at the hanging nuisance below. "Put one between his eyes! The rest of you stay on your targets" And he fired. Henri's head jerked backward, indicating a bullet hitting its mark. Smiling, Aaron expected the tutor to slip down and lost in the filthy stream, but he was not dead yet. He glanced at them with one eye missing and full of vengeance. "So, my brother was correct." He gripped his sword tightly and with his left hand, spread some of the light onto his breastplate. His heart raced, but not in fear. Anticipation! He was ready to pay back the humiliation he suffered that afternoon. "Come here if you dare, you renegade!"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "I think not, Lord Constable Dickweed. So far, I count about 5 shots. How many do you have left? Why don't you drop that shiny little dome you are cowering behind, and come join me for a swim? Surely, one more piece of shit could not possibly pollute the river further." Henri smiled viciously in the warm amber glow of the metal sphere, and continued his work. He positively SEETHED inside, thinking he had unintentionally tipped off the investigation to this sniveling little dog of a man, who cowered like a frightened puppy, practically wetting himself in his brother's presence. His opinion of who's head he would like to liberate from their shoulders changed identity. He would very much like to make this little shit squeal like the pig he was. To think, this little oaf of a man was one of the "Geniuses" behind the abduction of his ward, the erstwhile prince he had grown so fond of for his pluck and wit. "Or are you afraid that you might get grime and dirt underneath those perfectly manicured little nails of yours? Clearly, never seen an honest day's work in their lives--Oh-- Or perhaps, since you're so salty, that you might melt? Hmm? Funny, how little rats like you always come for the cheese, isn't it Lord Delving? What's the matter, your big brother too busy to do his own dirty work today? Or does he not know where you are right now? Quite the pity." He dunked the sphere into the water, where it hissed and sizzled, then filled it most of the way full with the fouled river water, then heated only the top part to seal it closed. "I even went so far as to make you a little present. SOME of us pay attention when we read things in the library, and got promoted to the royal court on MERIT, instead of who their daddy fucked. Oh, I am quite sure you paid a lot of money for that gaudy little pig-sticker you have, but I MADE my shell-- ALL. BY. MY. SELF. Now, I feel I must part company, Lord Dipshit. I have a tunnel to collapse." Henri then spread his core into the metal of the sphere, then willed it to soar into the air and nestle into the masonry above, seeking a stony overhang to tuck it behind, before slipping back into the water with a sploosh, leaving just his hand exposed through the water. He began heating the canister. He rather hoped delving would become so furious that he would drop the barrier and storm at him-- He'd pull that little prig into the drink with him and drown him right then and there.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Wh-what'dya mean ther' lady! We know nuffin' bout no hunting ground, ain't that right Ingmar?" The first man stammered very suspiciously as his eyes darted to the exit of the room behind Matilda, before back to the orc knight. "Very much so! It's against the law, yennow? We're all law abiding citizens 'ere! Long live the king and all, aye!" The second man nodded a tad too vigorously, already inching backward so that he's a bit further to Matilda compared to the first. If the situation wasn't so urgent, these two probably could've make some hilarious comical duo.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Despite the wrinkles on his face becoming more apparent, Aaron remained unflinching. Sure his pride was bruised from the south and from the west. Coward, crooked, traitor. Some were warranted and some were not, he didn't care, he swallowed them all whole because this tactic was his own tactic, and he knew its strength and weakness. His decision to hold the line seemed to pay off when he saw four of his men arrive from the northwest tunnel. That elf peeked from her cover to shoot at the regrouping soldier but his sergeant's shield deflected the arrow and thus allowed his part to safely enter the barrier. Deep down, Aaron was relieved it wasn't an explosive one. "So what now?" He shouted. "What now you dipshit! I will have you all buried! And you can hide or face your judgment! Go on and make my day! Useless piece of filth! Do your worst!" "Oh, you bet I will! I even went so far as to make you a little present." Barked the inhuman tutor mockingly, still hanging on the edge of the floor. "SOME of us pay attention when we read things in the library, and got promoted to the royal court on MERIT, instead of who their daddy fucked. Oh, I am quite sure you paid a lot of money for that gaudy little pig-sticker you have, but I MADE my shell-- ALL. BY. MY. SELF. Now, I feel I must part company, Lord Dipshit. I have a tunnel to collapse." Looking up, Aaron glanced at the red, spherical metal things hovering near the ceiling closer to the entrance, right above their head. How that thing could have gotten there and since when? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He had his barrier. Still focused on the lingering danger, the navy shooter reloaded and aimed his weapon at Henri, but the Royal Tutor let go of his grip and splooshed back into the water with one hand still erected at the surface. Aaron watched how that metal sphere glows brighter, but then, another unexpected thing came; a fletched shaft with a glowing tip flew from the south and hit the sphere. Violent explosion shook that tunnel, shattering the wooden frame that supports the middle entrance and its surrounding masonry. Pieces of concrete and other debris started to fall from the collapsing ceiling, filling the passage until it was completely shut. But it wasn't all. A splash of warm and rancid mud befell them, the barrier might have eased up the temperature, but it was still crap, and he was full of it, now inside out and Aaron was wide awake when that humiliation occurred. The constable coughed, swiping blood and a handful of black mud from his nose. The barrier remained undaunted however, in fact, it glowed even brighter... only for a few moments after. That instant strengthening had cost him a great deal of energy and imposed a heavy strain on his body. When the barrier began to shrink, Aaron knew he was in deep trouble. A bit too late for that, really. "Men! Retreat now!" It was the sentence he never imagined he would say.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan was still on crouching ready to fire position between Kaito's and Jazdia's pillar, having a blind spot from Delving's musketeers and could peek the right side if he is ready to shoot his arrow. He quickly covered his ears when Henri made an explosion. The area began darker as the lits got weaken. When Delving's group began to retreat he quickly drawn his yumi again. Unfortunately, he can't make a call for a shot since everyone from the other side became a silhouette figures and his Ki is out of the range. Sighed and stood up with his feet. He checked the condition of the rest of the party. He kept cautious and kept his awareness active from the party's surroundings. Still with his yumi but will change to melee when it's clear.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword "You know it is a crime to lie to a guard, especially the head of the guards. If you do not want your head removed from your shoulder, I would suggest you start telling the truth." She walked closer toward the two men, making sure to close the distance. Being able to grab them by their shirts, if they could stupidly think they could outrun her. "What did you see when you were out hunting? Did you see anything strange or any OTHER criminal activities going on?" Towering over the two, she had quite a menacing presence to her.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Matilda's sheer bulk alone was intimidating enough close-up, the two idiots very unsubtly had their eyes on her teeth the entire time as they shrunk and shrunk like a pair of shriveled testicles. The claim of being the head of guards and beheading threat simply pushed them past the panic point as their eyes widened, near-synchroniously trying to step back only for her grip to be ironclad and they just rebounded back to the original place. If there's fight or flight instinct raging in their mind, well, it was summarily and handily defeated by the "give up and beg for mercy" instinct. If that's even a real thing. "L-l-lady- I mean, ma'am- ahmean, Sire-" "Sire is for men ya dork! Dame, yes? Dame Hilda, ah've heard of yer name, yer' the bestest and strongest knight-" "Ah saw a fight! Ain't got nothin' ta do with me, I swaer on me mum!" "Yer mum's dead! B-birk an' Reinhold went for closer look! I ain't dealin' with that shit, I went straight home! Ne'er shot even a rabbit, for real!" If they're not held tight by Matilda's iron fist, they probably would've ended up fighting each other to toss the other to the chopping block to save their own skin.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- As the houses belonging to the hunters grew closer, so did the forest they were near. It seemed dense enough to supply Hdur with enough game for decades to comes. Though it was clear some of the forest was cleared away, probably for lumber, it didn't seem to leave any sore of dent in the size of the forest itself. The sky was clear today, with slight breeze. "I'm sorry to have cut your meal short. I was not expecting you to make a stew. I hope you were able to get some satisfaction from the bacon and vegetables you were snacking on." Solomon addressed Cedar as they took another turn on the dirt road that lead more directly to the hunter cottages. "On the bright side, with the farmer offering to make your stew, you'll have a hot meal waiting for your return." Not long after, they approached the hunter's houses. Solomon stopped. The house appeared occupied, but through the window, it looked like some kind of struggle. People looked to be backing away from someone, as thought they were trying to create distance. It didn't seem to work as their assailant blurred past with arms outstretched moving out of sight. "Take care here, Cedar. It looks as though there might be some trouble in that house."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Goodbye Mr. Henri, your service will never be forgotten... After making a personal vow to tell Fred what the prince's loyal tutor had done in his (probably) last moment. Jazdia could see the dome strengthen, but then rapidly lose its integrity. The musketeers only realized it after Jazdia impaled one of them with an arrow, the rest, including Aaron scamper to the wooden railings next to them. Before today, the last time Jazdia killed a soldier was twenty years ago, during the Tretagor crisis. Not the proudest milestone in her life, to be honest. To her, soldiers were the most pitiful profession a man could ever take. They didn't have the right to choose; a chain of commands bound them and the order was their sacred codex. They were disposable pawns, a perfect asset to discard to suit their commander's needs. And when their commander fell, they too fall with him. So, let's give them a chance. Jazdia fired an enchanted arrow with a remote trigger at the wooden frame on the northwest entrance then shouted at the hunkering Aaron. "Constable! What a sorry state you are in right now. I see that your shield is shrinking. That's a shame! Tell your boys if they retreat they will be spared! If they retreat with you they will be killed. And if they stay with you for too long, they will die. Do you see my arrows? It will explode in five minutes! Or when they violate the rules! As for you, Mr. Delving, God willing, I will not let you leave this tunnel unscathed! Time is running. Go and make your choices!" One of the musketeers unneighbourly responded by blindly firing his musket. An arrow flew in retaliation, but it hit the side of his helmet and deflecting the arrow off of its course. Two of his friends took advantage by running for the exit. Probably under Delving's order. Didn't matter. They didn't violate the rules. "What a lousy shot! Never do that again if you value your life!" *** A half kilometer away from that, in a cold chamber, a shackle shattered. waking up from her pitiful slumber, a woman cried. Agony shot through her, agony such as she had never known, and it concentrated in a brand on her nape. At first, she thought her master was angry at her, punishing her for a mistake, and she was willing to accept. But as the pain subsides, she found no sign of her master. The young woman shambled for the exit, moved by unexplainable anxiety, and it grew stronger when she opened the unlocked door. There was a faint trace of magic, one that didn't belong to anyone she knew. She shivered, a whisper came, and it brought faint ill news. She tried to shrug it off as the usual useless lure from the lingering spirit who haunted this place. At first, she walked, and with every step taken the anxiety turned into fear, and the fear turned into sadness, from sadness, came anger. The memory of her master started to fade in her mind, the master that had taken her in and liberated her from the torment of her so-called parents. The master who raised her and gave her purpose in life. She feared she would lose his touch forever. Terrified beyond reason, the young woman now hovered over the bloodied, broken corpse of her fellow servants. She stopped, yowling incoherently about where the master was and why his throne was empty, but nobody answered. As she strode past the broken trapdoor, unexplainable emotion surged through her. For the first time in her life, she felt impatient. As another wave of pain pulsed from her nape, her back arched in agony, and another scream was torn from her, and she realized with a racking, raging sense of grief that her master might have met his demise. The wall before her crumbled in an explosion, there, she rushed deeper. Tunnel after tunnel she knew so well, now all would be the victim of her unadulterated rage; crumbling and caving in in her wake. As she reached the place where her master's life force have once lingered, her eyes-- or rather, senses, were immediately fixed on the elven woman with a bow and wicked magic. Sensing the same magic from her and the residual life force of her master. The hate grew inside her like a living, parasitic thing. With trembling hands, she gathered her magic. The pride and joy that her master would never spare his kind words to praise her talent. "Talent, not disaster, not a terrible affront." To think that she would never hear those words again hurt her more than anything, and in sheer malice, she unleashed her power toward those who have robbed the world from her.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark One of Aaron's goons rushed for the dead navy near the northeast tunnel to loot the spare gunpowder, while the sharpshooter drew a bead at her, preventing Jazdia to shot at the running soldier. Commendable teamwork, but either miscalculated or simply desperate, they forgot that it wasn't a one-way trip. And on his way back, the elf fired her explosive arrow. That one soldier smashed onto the wall before bouncing back to the floor and lying unmoving. Aaron, who was ready to receive the gunpowder thrown backward and could be seen squirming in pain behind the undamaged railing. It was almost like shooting fish in a shallow barrel. "Well, I guess Time is up, Gentlemen!" That enchanted arrow on the northwest tunnel exploded. Its structure had sustained partial damage from the previous explosion before and now it had reached its peak stress. The entrance collapsed, and the explosion coupled with falling debris overwhelmed the navy sharpshooter, rendering him unconscious with substantial head trauma. Aaron was now the last one standing, or moving? Jazdia notched an arrow in her bow, and again, the radiant purple flame engulfed its crystalizing head. She risked a little bit more energy into her eyes and scan the walls, to ensure nobody would interrupt their last dance. To her disappointment, however, Jazdia saw a lithe silhouette approaching from the now-collapsed tunnel. And as the unknown actor hover closer, The debris, small or large was shoved violently and pushed aside like dried leaves. The figure was getting clearer to see, showing a very young girl in her early teens. Jazdia already had her bow drawn and aimed at her, but, for a half second, the elf hesitated, and she doubted her own eyes. It was a mistake. A white flash of energy hurled from that breached tunnel, and in the last attempt to correct her error, Jazdia released her arrow. Almost instantly, an enormous crackling ball of white and purple fire exploded in front of her. The blow flung her body backward and crashed to the floor. The world was spinning, all the noises were now replaced with an annoying ring in her head. Her chest contracted as she gasped for breath, and as she partially gathered her wit, the pain was so severe she unable to move her body. Perhaps the most grueling part of her injury was when Jazdia realized she suddenly had an extra finger.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Come to think of it, she might have cut some of her muscles. Jazdia twitched her fingers. All were responsive albeit with limited movements. Nervous system? She could feel the touch, and pain, except for her right thumb and pinkie which looked very pale. She tested by yanking both fingers. Ouw! Ouch! Yeah, they too passed the check. Blood vessel? Blood dripping from her punctured knuckle and wrist told her that this one was still... problematic. Jazdia had finished tending to her left palm when Chonan approached her, offering help. But she shook her head and dismissively waved her hand. The Samurai was slow to take the hint, so Jazdia resorted to verbal instruction. "You should help Yvonne." That noblewoman in question however was walking, or rather, wobbling, with swords in her hand, but barely a few steps later she stumbled, almost comically so, and hit the floor, face first. Hesitatingly, pausing many times for breath, she stressed."Yeah, you should help her..." The samurai nodded and approached Yvonne. There was a short bark, unruly squirm, and wild arm movement when he gently picked the noblewoman up and bring her to safety. Come to think of it, they looked awfully matched to each other. Jazdia leaned backward and laughed throatily. The Samurai then stormed for the south tunnel for God knows what. *** Upon arriving at Gerrald's bunker, Chonan ransacked the guild master's quarter and opened all the containers he could find. There was no valuable intel, however, but at the cupboard where Gerrald stored his liquor, he found a jar of honey and unlabeled rectified spirit. Opening another cabinet near the door, he found a scissor, three small bottles filled with red aromatic liquid, two similarly small bottles filled with clear solutions that smelled like lemon extract, and a generous supply of bandages --three rolls to be exact.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" What the. Aww shit. That was Yvonne's last thought as her body just failed her, adrenaline completely vacating her system resulting in an instant and immediate crash. The mercenary blacked out, didn't even felt the impact until she sort of regained consciousness a few seconds later - face uncomfortably in the dirt, barely being able to twitch a muscle. And oh, everything fucking hurt like it's on fire. "Owowow, easy on the shoulder-" Someone came for her soon after, it's the adventurer guy. The man brought her next to Sparky and left her there, not really much of an improvement but at least she's not stuck face-down on the dirt anymore. still cant move for shit though. The debt's being paid with interest, probably wont be able to move again anytime soon. At least she's alive. "Hey boss. Doing good?" A cackle escaped Yvonne's lips as their condition was nowhere even close to "good", the laughter cutting off prematurely from the pain. She suppressed a wince as her attention redirected to the blind mage still gurgling on the ground. "She ain't dead yet. Would be a lot safer to finish her off, yeah?"</s> <|message|>Kaito Everything was black, no lights, no shapes, no colors. Just an endless nothingless, a void so tranquil yet devoid of anything. Anything? no, vague voices could be heard in the distance. Voices that sounded familiar but the fox struggled to place them. Then he opened his eyes. The sudden light bombarded his eyes, the world around him seemed to spin out of control while a massive headache just kept ringing inside his head. For a moment Kaito just felt nauseous, weak and could not place where he was. The kitsune tried to stand up but felt that his legs were just giving in and he felt flat on his ass. For a brief moment the fox just sat there, dazed and confused about where he was and what just happened. Then the events of earlier all started to come back slowly. The fight at the entry of the guild's headquarters came first and slowly he started to regain his memories from today until the very last thing he remembered. The girl was charging up her blast attack in order to finish the job she had started. She was about to kill Jazdia when Kaito casted his illusion. Then everything went black for the fox. A sudden panic came over the kitsune. Frantically looked around for his elf companion and tried to scream her name but his voice was weak from exhaustion. "Jaz…". But before he could finish he noticed that she was on the ground next to him. Much to his relief she was still alive but badly injured. "You're alive. That's good" Spoke the fox with much relief in his voice. Slowly the realization dawned upon him that the fight was over and they all had survived. But Jazdia and Yvonne were in terrible shape. Kaito looked for a moment at Jazdia. The sight of her injuries still filled him with a terrible rage and concern. However he took a deep breath and decided that his emotions should not be clouding his judgment at this time. They had to get into moving shape as quickly as possible. They were still on the territory of the black serpents guild afterall. Kaito stood up and walked over to the elf. "We're is your medkit? We need to do something about that shoulder of yours." He paused a bit and looked at Yvonne. "And we need to do something about pretty much everything of Yvonne. Where is Chounan?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Hey boss. Doing good?" When Yvonne saluted her, Jazdia was busy biting one end of the bandage to secure a knot on her wrist. Even after done with that, she didn't immediately answer. She handed Yvonne a small, squeezable tube with a cone-shaped end containing white powder and asked her to wait as she unfastened her undershirt and pulled it down. There, on the same level as her armpit was a wound. It was still oozing some blood, but luckily no froth could be seen. The elf poured some antiseptic solution and then sprayed the white powder before quickly applying the bandage. To her dismay, but completely unsurprised, the gauze she had was insufficient to properly dress the wound. A trace of blood was still spreading slowly on her left hand. A sign that she might had use her bandage a bit too sparingly. To that, she chuckled wryly. That was a first aid kit for you. "She ain't dead yet. Would be a lot safer to finish her off, yeah?" The Rosenving daughter suggested, but Jazdia wasn't very ready to answer that. Pausing a moment to watch the fire burning in front of them, she then handed to her a metal sleek thermos. Gesturing to Yvonne that her injured and bandaged hands were too weak to open it themselves. Approaching from behind was Kaito and immediately he voiced his concern. "Jaz…" "Morning, little fox. Having a nightmare?" Jazdia rose up and flinched as her injured chest adapted to a different tension, she raised a hand to tell them she was fine, but Kaito fluttered around her like a fussy nursemaid. "Where is your medkit? We need to do something about that shoulder of yours." He paused a bit and looked at Yvonne. "And we need to do something about pretty much everything of Yvonne. Where is Chounan?" Jazdia rubbed the bandaged wound under her untied shirt and sighed. "Don't worry about me. As for Chonan..." The glow in her eyes was faint this time before it turned normal again. "I can't see him," She stated flatly, then continued in a manner of someone explaining a natural occurrence. "I have lost a sizeable amount of blood I can't use my power properly." As she finished speaking, Chonan returned, bringing several items with him.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne's eyes flickered down, first to the little tube placed in her hand and then the thermos. She made no other movement as she replied, completely deadpan. "Well I'd love to help but I literally cant move a finger right now." It's not apparent with the hauberk and gambeson and undershirt on the way, but she's got more bruise than not. Come to think of it, taking off the damn thing will be such a pain with her broken shoulder, dead gods. The next few days gonna suck so bad. "Left shoulder's busted, broke some ribs too. But the rest should heal in a week or two." She plainly stated to the fox, downplaying it maybe a bit. "I should regain some mobility tonight. Tomorrow morning at the latest. Be in your care until then, yeah?"</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword @Randomness @wierdw The knight was oblivious now tired of the antics of the two men, "Silence!" She growled at the two before turning her head towards Reinhold. Walking over towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Easily lifting him off the chair and dangling him in the air. "Wake up Reinhold, You are going to lead me to your brother's killer. But I need this person alive, I need information on the person I am trying to find." Her head turned towards the door, being glad to hear a familiar voice, "Open the door." What Cedar and Solomon saw was quite strange. But Matilda would obviously tell them about the context, of why she was holding this man in the air by his collar. "Have you found anything useful concerning our investigations?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "Plentiful of medical stuffs I found on the office." Chounan placed on the spot where the party resting, he managedly moved the most the things he found from the office. Chounan gave Jazdia a roll of bandage. "Do you guys have a plan on that blind girl? It seems like she known more of her late master than that unconscious soldier but still we need this unfortunate man to know about Sir Delving's doing. Back to the blind girl, I remembered something similar to this during my quest mission back then but this girl quite lucky than those abducted women from goblin nesting place. I believed that she having a possible feelings on her master overtime. If you guys want to keep her, I will try to supress her casting with Kijtsu. Suppressing her by hand strokes on meridian. Also a sharp like kunai will make it longer if needed." He continue. During his talk, he unfastened his glove and pulled his arm part of the kimono to revealed the stab wound. Cleaned it with rectified spirit. His emotions surpressed and he kept talking while cleaning and bandaging his arm. The bandage was a cut from the bandage roll that he gave to Jazdia. Done tending his stabbed arm. Chounan approached and open the metal thermos for them.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Well I'd love to help but I literally cant move a finger right now. "Left shoulder's busted, broke some ribs too. But the rest should heal in a week or two."" Jazdia took that thermos again, looking dejected not only upon hearing the damage report but also at the unopened thermos as well. Giving up, she handed it to Kaito. The group's attention suddenly shifted to arriving Chonan and the coughing soldier near the pillar. It looked like he was regaining his consciousness. Jazdia wondered who spared him. "What! Who goes there!" He slapped his nape, then searched his waist. Seemed disappointed to find himself unarmed, he murmured."Where is my sword? You! You are the... criminal." He studied them before rubbing his temple. "Wa-what do you want? Why did you let me... live?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword @Randomness @wierdw The knight was oblivious now tired of the antics of the two men, "Silence!" She growled at the two before turning her head towards Reinhold. Walking over towards him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. Easily lifting him off the chair and dangling him in the air. "Wake up Reinhold, You are going to lead me to your brother's killer. But I need this person alive, I need information on the person I am trying to find." Her head turned towards the door, being glad to hear a familiar voice, "Open the door." What Cedar and Solomon saw was quite strange. But Matilda would obviously tell them about the context, of why she was holding this man in the air by his collar. "Have you found anything useful concerning our investigations?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "Plentiful of medical stuffs I found on the office." Chounan placed on the spot where the party resting, he managedly moved the most the things he found from the office. Chounan gave Jazdia a roll of bandage. "Do you guys have a plan on that blind girl? It seems like she known more of her late master than that unconscious soldier but still we need this unfortunate man to know about Sir Delving's doing. Back to the blind girl, I remembered something similar to this during my quest mission back then but this girl quite lucky than those abducted women from goblin nesting place. I believed that she having a possible feelings on her master overtime. If you guys want to keep her, I will try to supress her casting with Kijtsu. Suppressing her by hand strokes on meridian. Also a sharp like kunai will make it longer if needed." He continue. During his talk, he unfastened his glove and pulled his arm part of the kimono to revealed the stab wound. Cleaned it with rectified spirit. His emotions surpressed and he kept talking while cleaning and bandaging his arm. The bandage was a cut from the bandage roll that he gave to Jazdia. Done tending his stabbed arm. Chounan approached and open the metal thermos for them.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Well I'd love to help but I literally cant move a finger right now. "Left shoulder's busted, broke some ribs too. But the rest should heal in a week or two."" Jazdia took that thermos again, looking dejected not only upon hearing the damage report but also at the unopened thermos as well. Giving up, she handed it to Kaito. The group's attention suddenly shifted to arriving Chonan and the coughing soldier near the pillar. It looked like he was regaining his consciousness. Jazdia wondered who spared him. "What! Who goes there!" He slapped his nape, then searched his waist. Seemed disappointed to find himself unarmed, he murmured."Where is my sword? You! You are the... criminal." He studied them before rubbing his temple. "Wa-what do you want? Why did you let me... live?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Oh hey, is that a potion? Gimme one and I should be back on my feet within the hour." The bottle was a bit different than what Yvonne's used to but the color was familiar. Come to think of it, she left hers with the medkit in the other inn. What a blunder. Hopefully she got the time to swing by to pick up her luggage soon. Nothing too important in there, but she'd rather not go grocery shopping to replace everything because she's been missing for too long and they toss out the bag. "...who let that guy live?" At the rousing of the soldier, Yvonne glanced annoyedly at the group. Not particularly threatened though - any one of them should be able to deal with him easily. "You're lucky I cant move right now. Go to the corner and pretend you're a rock or something."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "You're lucky I cant move right now. Go to the corner and pretend you're a rock or something." Yvonne quickly grabbed one of the red bottles and drank it. Even in the first sip, the healing and invigorating effect of that potion could be felt. The pain lessened, and the bruises were starting to fade. And at that moment, her word to that surviving soldier was no longer an empty threat anymore. Ignoring the confused soldier to be somebody else's problem, Jazdia approached the wounded girl and stared at her deviant eyes before kneeling and opening her medkit. Her expression was cold, and she was actually hesitant, but something deep inside moved her. Compassion, yeah it had to be that. At this moment, she remembered her late aunt, Flenaline. Be a healer, she said. The world will be a better place with more people capable of healing instead of fighting, she said. But she died before she could see one more healer taking her oath. The girl tried to shove her away with her trembling hand, but barely a push can be felt. Frowning only slightly, Jazdia gripped her hand tightly and swiftly administered sedative morphine from a squeezable syrette. The girl let out a choked protest and Jazdia braced herself. It would take another two minutes for the drug to take effect and alleviate her suffering-- or remaining rage, come to think of it. Yes, her hand was starting to bleed again after wrangling the girl to not jolting her body left and right. "Samurai!" she shouted. "Bring one of those medicines here and have her drink it!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Just grasping the vial shot a jolt of agony up her arm, but Yvonne gritted her teeth and bear the pain. Cant use her left arm, but she just brought it to her mouth and bit the cork off before draining the content. Then she let the arm return to neutral position, the simple motion made grueling by the all-encompassing pain throughout her very being. It worked quickly. Felt like the liquid elixir started melting in even before she swallowed, tasting as foul as she remembered. Her condition... improved. Moving was definitely on the table now, though if she forced it right away she'll collapse in ten steps and be worse than where she started. Muscles need resting after usage, whether working out or active fighting. The potion dramatically cut down the initial period, but she still shouldn't move much for a while. "Not the best time to be compassionate here, Sparky." Kindness to an enemy was cruelty to one's allies. "Hope you know what you're doing. Even if Edgy here can block spellcasting, she's one of the strongest mage I've ever seen."</s> <|message|>Kaito "Morning, little fox. Having a nightmare?" "Sort of I guess. I must have blacked out from mana depletion or something but the last thing I remember was you laying on the floor with a stab wound in the chest and that girl aiming her blast magic at you. I can't recall how it all ended. I'm just glad that you.. that we all are still alive." The fox paused a bit as Chounan returned with several items and Jazdia handed over a little tube to Yvonne. However the mercenary was in no shape to administer any form of healthcare to anyone. She kinda stated her wounds but Kaito figured she was still downplaying it a bit. Somehow his female companions all had this thing for acting tough. "Just sit down and rest, ok? I'll handle the situation. Make sure i'll patch anyone up and we can get the fuck out of this damn sewer as quickly as possible before more misfortune comes our way." Quickly Kaito opened the metal thermos that Jazdia gave him but much time to think about it he didn't have as the soldier the fox had knocked out earlier regained his consciousness and started talking. Something Yvonne seemed to find rather annoying. "Guilty as charged." responded to the Kitsune as the mercenary more or less inquired about who had left the soldier alive. For a moment he looked at the confused soldier who asked why he was still alive and where his sword was. "Why you are still alive? Why not? Not everyone around here likes to kill people. Your sword is there by the way." said the fox as he pointed to the canal. "If you want it back you gonna need to take a swim. You're gonna be private poopface for the rest of your career though. So why don't you sit tight for now so that we can have a conversation later?". Kaito paused as Jazdia walked towards the girl on the ground who apparently was still alive somehow. A part of him was kind of disappointed that the girl was still breathing. But could she be really held accountable for her actions after a life of abuse and manipulation by Gerald? That man had probably broken her mind to the very core and manipulated her into loving him. A story of a rather toxic relationship that sounded rather familiar to the fox. Somehow this encounter felt like looking into a mirror. The ktisune let out a sigh and immediately felt the pain of his bruised ribs but grabbed the bottle of spirit and bandages that Chounan had brought nonetheless as he walked over the girl and the elf. he took a quick look at the girl and Jazdia before more or less commanding the elf to get out of the way."You can't give her a potion before taking out the arrow. That will lead to infections later. Your hands are in no condition to take it out. I'll do it."</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "You guys better to stay away when she regain back her strength. The potion will revitalize her and regain stamina. With Ki and Jitsu, I will seal her will to fight in both physical and magical by hand striking her meridian." Chounan warned the two, he was concerned the two's condition and their combant effectiveness are low. He waited kaito to do his job and later he will give the blind girl the vial to sip it slowly after the fox's medical attention.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Not the best time to be compassionate here, Sparky." Kindness to an enemy was cruelty to one's allies. "Hope you know what you're doing. Even if Edgy here can block spellcasting, she's one of the strongest mage I've ever seen." Jazdia heard her loud and clear, but she remained determined. "I will deal with her myself if she tries anything." she answered, as clearly as she could. The girl's red eyes glared at her with rekindled anger, but Jazdia looked back unbothered. "Listen... you. I have registered 15 milligrams of morphine into your bloodstream, you will remain calm until I am done patching your wound. You will die if I let you." Jazdia touched her cheek, a gesture of reassurance, but her deadpan expression said otherwise. "I want to help." She heard someone sighing behind her, it was Kaito, who immediately squatted next to her. The sudden movement down caused him to grimace in pain. "You can't give her a potion before taking out the arrow. That will lead to infections later. Your hands are in no condition to take it out. I'll do it." "If you pull the arrow now, she will bleed to death in minutes. That health potion does wonder to staunch the bleeding, but it takes time to be absorbed and take effect." Jazdia shook her head and continued in a grim tone. "She has lost so much blood, and we can't afford to spill more. She will get the potion first, then we will take it out when the potion has started to take effect. At least we will have some insurance. How is that sound?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "You guys better to stay away when she regain back her strength. The potion will revitalize her and regain stamina. With Ki and Jitsu, I will seal her will to fight in both physical and magical by hand striking her meridian." Chounan warned the two, he was concerned the two's condition and their combant effectiveness are low. He waited kaito to do his job and later he will give the blind girl the vial to sip it slowly after the fox's medical attention.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Not the best time to be compassionate here, Sparky." Kindness to an enemy was cruelty to one's allies. "Hope you know what you're doing. Even if Edgy here can block spellcasting, she's one of the strongest mage I've ever seen." Jazdia heard her loud and clear, but she remained determined. "I will deal with her myself if she tries anything." she answered, as clearly as she could. The girl's red eyes glared at her with rekindled anger, but Jazdia looked back unbothered. "Listen... you. I have registered 15 milligrams of morphine into your bloodstream, you will remain calm until I am done patching your wound. You will die if I let you." Jazdia touched her cheek, a gesture of reassurance, but her deadpan expression said otherwise. "I want to help." She heard someone sighing behind her, it was Kaito, who immediately squatted next to her. The sudden movement down caused him to grimace in pain. "You can't give her a potion before taking out the arrow. That will lead to infections later. Your hands are in no condition to take it out. I'll do it." "If you pull the arrow now, she will bleed to death in minutes. That health potion does wonder to staunch the bleeding, but it takes time to be absorbed and take effect." Jazdia shook her head and continued in a grim tone. "She has lost so much blood, and we can't afford to spill more. She will get the potion first, then we will take it out when the potion has started to take effect. At least we will have some insurance. How is that sound?"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" @A5G Cedar opened the door a bit, then popped his head inside while hunching over. Looking around the room, he saw Matilda holding one of the gentlemen he had come to politely ask questions from up by the collar like he was a misbehaving puppy. While he could certainly do the same thing himself-- He was more than strong enough-- it was just not something you were supposed to do with PEOPLE. At least, not fully grown ones, like that one. (Ornery, misbehaving kids-- like his baby brother and sisters, were an exception if you wanted to avoid having teeth in your shins, or getting bowled over.) "uhm.. Miss Matilda, why ya got that fellar up in th' air like at? We's came ta ask 'ese fellars some questions, not scare em tills the' wets 'semselves... Put the fellar down.. ---You allright up there fella?" he drawled, trying to take in the situation and salvage it with as much polite decorum as he could muster. He turned his attention to the other terrified man in the room. "How 'bout you fellar-- Ya knows anythung about an ugly bald fellar wit' a big nose an' a jaw out ta here?" He made almost comical gesticulations with his paws near is own head, as he made the description. "Mebbe a silver headed fella wit' a smirk an' a cleft chin? Got one eye, like muh pappy?" He paused a moment, as if trying to process something he might have missed. "We's lookin' fer some fellars named Gerhard, Reinhold, Ingmar, and Bertolf--This *IS* a right place right? I mean, If' it ain't, I DOES apologize-- but the nice fellar down at th' farm as a said 'is was da place ta find em-- Don't worry none, I ain't gunna bite-cha."</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "I believe that's an Opium, Better to be quick. Life is at stake and we need to hurry." Chounan get closer to the blind girl. Transferring his energy to her senses with a friendly approach. He uncapped the potion and let her sips slowly until she empty the vial."Pull." He give Jazdia the signal when the ki senses her life energy got revitalized. He then prepared a clean bandage roll for stopping the bleeding and to wrap it on punctured wound.</s> <|message|>Kaito Of Course the elf disagreed with him. Jazdia always had a strong mind and equally strong opinion. It was one of the qualities he admired in her. For a moment he contemplated her points. It was true that the girl had lost a lot of blood but it was hard to tell how much she did and how much more she could afford to lose. Giving the potion first would likely result in less bleeding but you'd run the risk of tearing things that have closed open again if you waited too long. The fox wanted to argue about it some more but before he could open his mouth the samurai started to administer the potion. "Chounan! We were discussing…" stated the kitsune as he looked rather annoyed at the samurai but stopped his sentence halfway. "Well, the deed is done, we'll have to roll with it now." Kaito quickly started to inspect the arrow. The arrow didn't go all the way through her chest. This meant that the arrowhead could be stuck behind bones or in important tissue. The fox quickly cut open the girl's shirt to make some room for removing the arrow. Before touching anything he disinfected his hands with the spirit and slightly turned and twirled the arrow to feel how much space he had to work with. Feeling that the arrow wasn't stuck behind bones the kitsune slowly started to pull it out while keeping a remarkably steady hand to avoid doing additional damage. As the shaft started to leave the body in a slow pace he could only hope that it had not broken on impact. If that would have happened, that would mean that the arrowhead would be buried somewhere deep in her chest and her chances of survival would be slim. Slowly but surely the fox pulled the arrow further out of the girl's chest. Inch by inch it came out till the point that the arrowhead became visible. This girl sure was lucky that Jazdia didn't use a barbed arrow on her. Such arrows are way more difficult to remove. "It's out, in one piece. We can patch her up now."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] Reinhold woke with a jolt, struggling wildly as words washed past like fine brush before his brain registered it five seconds later. Then he stopped struggling, though he did glared at Matilda with enough intensity to set dried wood on fire. Thin line between bravery, stupidity, and plain old running out of fucks to give, but it's probably easy to tell which one's taking hold. "...I fell asleep again, huh?" He clicked his tongue. "Damn it. Put me down." The two other hunters were cowering even more in the corner when a freaking bear out of all thing came strolling through the door, though the terror quickly was replaced with wondrous bafflement as the bear speak with some thick hick accent. Enough to temporarily form some coherent answer. "Uh, Gerhard would be the farm owner. e's old as heck, more wrinkle than man." One chirped. "This one's Ingmar. I'm Bertolf. The one the dame holdin' up there is Reinhold."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The girl surprisingly imbibed the potion without much fuss, probably recognizing the bottle and the taste. Not sure if this was a good thing. Could it be that she wanted to recover quickly to continue his payback, who knows? Her smile seemed to have annoyed the girl, but both exchanged no word. They waited a bit. The girl was still paralyzed but wide awake. The sedating drug should have reached its onset now, and usually would have knocked a grown man out cold in a single dose. When Kaito touched the arrow, the girl growled faintly and twitched her body. Her persistence to fend off unconsciousness and showing resistance was laudable, yet also foolish. And her rescuer had no time to entertain her uncooperativeness, Jazdia pinned her wrist with her knee and covered her eyes. "Chonan, secure her other hand, would you kindly? Kaito, you can do it now." The girl's body tensed as the arrow pulled out and tossed aside. Quite slower than she had imagined but it was done anyway. Now checking for the wound, it was frothy and blood was still oozing, but not profusely. Kaito attentively sealed the wound with his hand. Good boy! Biting open something from an aluminum wrapping, Jazdia then laid a special, waxy membrane over her wound and secured it with an occlusive dressing. "How is your breathing?" Of course, she didn't answer, and even if she wanted to, the girl seemed to suffer deafness too. So Jazdia checked it herself, she breathed alright, but short... any shorter than that and she would have reopened the dressing again. She waited, and all seemed well and nominal. "She is all yours, Kaito. Apply more dressing on her chest, remove her upper clothing, and apply some on her temple too." she heaved, then turned to Chonan. "And best not cause any unnecessary alteration on her body. She is as helpless as a kitten for six hours to come." Then she approached Yvonne and smiled wryly. "Anything hurt?" A dorky question indeed, and a bit late too.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne watched the treatment with some interest, a bit disappointed that it actually went well. Oh well, blind girl hated Sparky the most somehow as if she knew who landed the killing blow on that prick Gerralt so if anyone's getting offed first that would be her. Small comfort if the rest of the party would be next, but still. Better than none. "Think it's faster to list out what doesn't, yeah?" The mercenary quipped with a lopsided grin. "If I got to pick though, left shoulder broke. I think it's the collarbone. Need to get out of this mail and bandage it good." Ribs broke too, but that'll heal by itself just fine. Shoulder break needed proper bandaging or it'll heal wrong.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "If I got to pick though, left shoulder broke. I think it's the collarbone. Need to get out of this mail and bandage it good." Jazdia activated her eyes but barely managed to see through Yvonne's hauberk. It was all bruises all over her shoulder, and aside from broken bones, there was probably internal bleeding too. It was indeed very concerning. Jazdia groped through her bag and placed a roll of bandage on Yvonne's lap before retrating her bandaged hand to somewhere out of the noblewoman's line of sight. "A spare bundle from our samurai friend. I suppose you don't need assistance to dress it?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne watched the treatment with some interest, a bit disappointed that it actually went well. Oh well, blind girl hated Sparky the most somehow as if she knew who landed the killing blow on that prick Gerralt so if anyone's getting offed first that would be her. Small comfort if the rest of the party would be next, but still. Better than none. "Think it's faster to list out what doesn't, yeah?" The mercenary quipped with a lopsided grin. "If I got to pick though, left shoulder broke. I think it's the collarbone. Need to get out of this mail and bandage it good." Ribs broke too, but that'll heal by itself just fine. Shoulder break needed proper bandaging or it'll heal wrong.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "If I got to pick though, left shoulder broke. I think it's the collarbone. Need to get out of this mail and bandage it good." Jazdia activated her eyes but barely managed to see through Yvonne's hauberk. It was all bruises all over her shoulder, and aside from broken bones, there was probably internal bleeding too. It was indeed very concerning. Jazdia groped through her bag and placed a roll of bandage on Yvonne's lap before retrating her bandaged hand to somewhere out of the noblewoman's line of sight. "A spare bundle from our samurai friend. I suppose you don't need assistance to dress it?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "A sling will do in the short term." Setting it up would be a bit complicated with one-hand, but doable. Yvonne set to do just that, slowly rolling the thing around the back of her neck and to the injured arm. "Another pair of hand would be great, but not necessary. Just give me a few minutes." It's not something that require much focus, really, so she could still chat up and whatnot. Now that she got a closer look on Sparky, the boss was much paler than earlier this morning. Everyone's banged up good, eh? "So, what's our plan going forward? Aaron will turn the city inside out to find us." A brief glance flickered to the hidden hand. A bit too late for that, Yvonne already got an eyeful during blindy's treatment. "We're not in a good shape for another fight."</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- "I see we are making friends." said Solomon as he followed Cedar into the cabin. Though there was doubt Cedar would be able to enter the cabin, he managed to do so just fine. True to the sound of the voice, it was Matilda that called them in. It seems the lead she was following had lead her to the same place as them. And furthermore, they were the people Birk had mentioned. "I'm going to agree with Cedar here. Guard Matilda, from what we've learned, I think it would be best to put down the man. By the looks of it, I think these men are willing to answer your questions." Solomon shimmied around Cedar so that he was better within the room. All three men were introduced, though through a shaky voice. It was understandable given the presence of an orcish woman, a bear shaped druid, and cloaked shadow of a man. Though, that last one probably didn't really have anything to do with it. "Speaking of questions, to answer yours. We've yet to discover any new information. In fact, we were hoping to by speaking with these gentlemen. Needless to say, you have gotten here before us." With the names Solomon had gathered, and the faces provided to Cedar by the crows, now was a good time to see if the faces matched the names. Cedar asked his questions about physical descriptions. That must mean the faces the crows saw were not these hunters. That was a little disappointing, since now who the kidnappers were are still not identified. Then again, the hunters didn't seem like they were capable of such a caper. "Given that you've had sufficient time to jostle our suspects, I do not suppose you found anything, Matilda? Maybe that with the answers they give us now might help further our lead."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia helped her, a little bit straightening the clipped bandage and supporting her arm while Yvonne rolled the white dressing over her shoulder. It felt like her version of "extra hand would be great" was a mere expression of exchanging pleasantries. "So, what's our plan going forward? Aaron will turn the city inside out to find us. We're not in a good shape for another fight." The plan huh? Jazdia glanced at the other side of the hall and did not find Aaron. Probably escaped when the chaos unfolded. Sighed, Jazdia opened the copy of the map to figure out where they are right now. [color=ec008c]"Still in the city apparently, right under the West market. What we perceived as the south tunnel actually leads to the east. I so depended on my eyes I didn't realize the twist and turns we have taken. The good news was, the tunnel has no other entrance, the bad news was beyond the city wall it was still uncharted."[/color Jazdia flipped the document again, if there was a mention of the secret passage, there has to be a map, but she found nothing of sort. Disappointed but not at wit's end, Jazdia rolled that map and secured it back to her bag. The thermos was no longer tightly sealed thanks to Kaito. Good boy! "There was no plan. We will improvise. There was no other option for us but to take that tunnel anyway. One thing for sure though, the quickest route back to the civilization was across that river of filth, but I reckon there is a bloody convention on that side." The tea inside it was stale and cold, but with her current condition now, it was much appreciated. Jazdia could use her eyes again, though the range was still limited. Gotta put a bit more strain on her, but whatever. She approached the guard after reaching for another scroll. Squatting to gaze at him equally, the elf began. "Greetings. We are really sorry we had to prolong your suffering and not killed you like some of us did to your friends... or what your captain had unlawfully commanded." The soldier's eyes squinted. "Unlawful?" But then in front of him was flipped document with His Highness's seal. He looked at Jazdia, dumbfounded for a brief second. It turned into fear when the elf pointed a blade at him. "Unlawful!" she asserted. "That is why I am intrigued to know what our higher-ups had told you about this operation. Obviously, you were here to ambush and kill us. Why is that? What was the verdict?" The soldier inched away to give his nose some distance from the blade. "I don't know. I don't have to tell you anything." "Then you, sir are a dead man. Because only the dead can tell no tales." "Figures..." "By your own choice." Jazdia sheathed her long knife, then stood in front of him. "No, let me rephrase my words. I know contracts and fair trades are how you Kindean do your things, so here is the deal: you answer my question and in return, we will offer you a chance to get out of here alive, so you can lay low... and protect your family from the wrath of your own highness because you were taking part in a conspiracy to murder the investigators he hired to investigate the assassination attempt six days ago. It took some time for the soldiers to process that. It only get faster when Jazdia read some of her procurement contracts. --Fredericus, by the grace of God. This letter is to confirm that I have personally appointed a group of private inspectors to assist in the investigation of a treacherous crime against the crown--" Of course, most of it was twisted to protect the confidentiality both she and Fredricus had agreed upon, but Jazdia wanted to scare him more. "You are guilty of treason, and that, sir is punishable by death." "Treason?" The soldier retorted, it seemed like he was shaking in fear. The word bespoke unspeakable terror it galvanized him in shock and peculiar distress. "but I..." "You what? Just following orders? Turns out the one who gave you the order was not an honest type. Why do you think he wanted to kill us, and not capture us as a law enforcer should?" "We... we were told to eliminate foreign spies!" "Do we look like one?" The Soldier shot a glance at the rest of the party. "Three of you are foreigners. You are an elf. I'd say you all indeed look like one." Jazdia laughed and only stopped when she was aware that it was perilously close to hysteria, and made her chest hurt too... "So you were buying it because... ahahaha! I understand."Still, doesn't absolve you from the crime your captain might have committed." "Might?" "You never know until we leave this place. But one thing for sure, if he is declared guilty, you too will go down with him Jazdia didn't stay long to see how the soldier would react to that forewarning, but then his heavy voice called her again to settle the bargain. "Besides the Constable, the one who briefed us was the Admiral himself." "Admiral?" Jazdia didn't turn back, but her voice was concerned. "Admiral Delving, the war hero. There is no reason for me or the boys to not trust him. He too assigned some of his men to assist this operation." The soldier's words were laced with overwhelming pride and seemed to have given him a sense of relief, a reason to keep his faith together. Jazdia did not question him further until he spoke again. "I will go with you," said he, nodding, not in acknowledgment, but more like someone who had no other option, and for Jazdia that was enough. "Is there anything else you want to ask? If you don't trust me you can have my hands tied, but it seemed you will need an extra hand to carry one of your friends." He pointed at the sedated slave. "She is not a friend."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "...just how many of you are there?" Reinhold's gaze shifted from Matilda to the talking bear and the unnerving old man before returning to Matilda. The amount of intruders seemed to increase every time and they're all very much interested in Birk's killer. "Wait, no. They did something at the royal forest, didn't they? And now you're looking for them." Probably would've arrived at that conclusion earlier, had he not be completely sleep-deprived. "Had no chance to get close. They're alert at all times. Think they've got a short prisoner. I've tracked them to... somewhere. A small village with a lord's fort overlooking it. Around northwest, two days on foot travel from here. Ain't know the name of the place, ne'er been that far out before. But I can make it back." He blinked twice at the mention of Gerhard. "Old Gerhard should be at his farm. He hardly ever leave anymore these days. Why?" Meanwhile, Bertolf and Ingmar was completely taken by the offer of food. They glanced at each other, at Reinhold, before back to Cedar and nodded almost too eagerly. "Food? We could use some food, aye! Ain't gotten much ta eat this week. Prey's very poor, I tell ya! All dem' peat harvesters scarin' away the animals!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne was mostly content on listening. Aaron's there to kill them, and had always been planning to. She had suspected as much but it's nice to have confirmation. Kinda fucked up how the constable of the goddamn capital was involved in attempted assassination though. Aaron was kinda dull, but he's not completely dumb- "Hold up, hold up, one second. Admiral? You talking about bloody Silas Delving?" The younger brother may had been a mediocre disappointment, but Silas was anything but. He was the perfect man in all aspect, loyalty included. Supposedly. Yvonne sighed. In a way, that made sense. Aaron was nowhere near bold or competent enough to even attempt this shit, even with the entire constabulary supporting him. "...man, this is why I hate politic." The implication was a rather bitter pill to swallow. She had met Silas once before, when she was much younger. Still vice-admiral at the time. Yvonne may had developed some teeny tiny lil bit of crush on him despite the age gap. But hey, that's perfectly normal alright! Who wouldn't?!</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito removed the girl's upper clothes and continued to apply bandages. The fox still had mixed feelings about this act of kindness. He had a hard time of letting her actions go and yet at the same time he kwown all too well that it was rather irrational to continue to feel this anger towards this girl. The kitsune sighed.He wasn't sure if the girl could hear him but he spoke nonetheless. " You should thank Jazdia, the elf you attacked so relentlessly for saving your life. I would have chosen to leave you here to die. I guess I'm just as emotional as you when it comes to seeing the people I care about getting hurt. I still feel a lot of anger and I am not capable of letting it go. At least not at this moment. I'll try it again in the future. Maybe you can do that too." For a moment Kaito just looked at her. He had finished up applying the bandages and the girl was now lying half naked on the floor of the sewer. That was a good way to attract all kinds of germs and hypothermia. Not to mention that a lady of her age should not go half undressed in public. The fox removed his cloak and then his tunic, revealing his battered and bruised but apart from that rather unremarkable physique. He quickly pulled his tunic over the girl's head before putting his cloak back on. At least that would keep her a bit warmer and covered for prying eyes. As Jazdia was speaking with the soldier the fox turned one of his big fox ears towards them. He could perfectly follow their conversation. Kaito didn't know much about the Delving family except for the fact that they played a big role in this country's politics. But if the older brother was involved as well, then it would be safe to assume that whoever belonged to house Delving is atleast a suspect. Probably the entire noble family was in on the assassination attempt. Kaito turned his head towards the elf and the soldier. "I told you Chounan's clothing style would attract too much attention" It was of course a little joke as the fox had already spent much of the operation not concealing his ears and tail. He tried to laugh but could quickly feel the pain in his ribcage from all the bruising. "Anyway, I think it is a great idea to let the soldier carry the girl. I doubt she will be moving on her own anytime soon"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan During the time from treating the blind girl, Chounan's hands were on her palms as a caring hands, kept his aura non hostile to her. Her dress made him thought of curiosity, he assume that she was also foreigner like him. The dress code seems to be fit from where the people dwells on the sand continent. Realizing how far she came from, he reminds him of himself. Same similarity between him and the girl and it is just her beginning. Thinking about his atonement, maybe he can do something to the blind girl. Chounan has been sitting besides the recovering blind girl. Looking from distance, Chounan has recognized someone. The soldier who spared Kaito was actually one of his trainee back then. "I told you Chounan's clothing style would attract too much attention" "Jokes on you, I've been here for years wearing this kind of outfit since the days I'd been training that soldier. am I right Gordon?" Chounan replied. Reaching them with his voice. Before they moved on. Chounan stood up and approached Yvonne. He offered his shoulder to lean on and speak with warm smile. "You need help? Is the potion already kicking in?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Either the word was laced with beguiling magic or she somehow could feel the sincereness, the wounded slave of Gerrald stopped throwing hissy fits and stared at the ceiling with a blank expression. Then she started sobbing, heartbroken yet still determined, tears dripping again, and her spasming chest signaled a desire to cry but unable to do so. "Master?" she reached her hand, but it was only Kaito, her finger touched his face and he let it until she completely succumbed to the anesthetic. Jazdia approached them shortly after. The girl was sleeping. "Her, breathing is normal. No heaving or wheezing," examining the bandage and placing her finger on her neck, she then continued. "No sign of bleeding... I think." Kaito discarded his cloak and tunic but decided to have the girl wear his tunic instead. Done during that, he turned to Jazdia. "I told you Chounan's clothing style would attract too much attention" She only smirked, while the soldier kept his guard after noticing the non-human attributes the man in front of him sported. But then, unarmed and bound by his contract, what he could do anyway? "Jokes on you, I've been here for years wearing this kind of outfit since the days I'd been training that soldier. Am I right Gordon?" the man in question replied. Reaching them with his voice. The soldier turned at him, squinting as he finally recognize his oriental face."Sir Chonan?" The word 'Sir' was uttered with a certain degree of disappointment, but the man showed his respect by giving him a salute. "Long time no see, what are you doing with... them?" There was an awkward silence. Then, before Chonan could answer, Kaito interjected. "Anyway, I think it is a great idea to let the soldier carry the girl. I doubt she will be moving on her own anytime soon." So he nodded, and Kaito helped him to carry the girl on his back. "She is so small, like my daughter. Poor girl! You said she is not your friend. What happened to her?" Nobody answered, but everyone had the same person in mind, and that person was now lying dead on the dusty floor not far from them. Had everything gone smoothly, they were bring him alive, so he could be questioned about his atrocities, about the king's assassination, and nothing else. But it didn't go smoothly. His allies wanted to protect him, and as they declared their deceitful intention, something sparked inside her; to think of a scum like him roaming free angered Jazdia and she wanted to see justice being served. The man's corpse was now sprawled like a worthless rag, mangled, and desecrated. Jazdia did not regret it one bit. "Let's get out of here." Led by Jazdia, the group walked through the tunnels. Almost identical tunnels like the ones they passed before reaching that hall. The humidity remained the same, but the passage was grim with no lighting whatsoever. Jazdia reminded the group to keep up the pace and be careful with their step. Yvonne felt she was stepping over something and it cracked. The light from the torch Kaito brought revealed a half part of a human skeleton leaning against the wall. Had they not been guided by a map, they too might end up like that poor guy. After another long walk that seemed to be heading straight and without any turnback, they then arrived at the room. Strangely the room was sufficiently lit with lanterns and candles. It was still a storage room, but large, and inside, thousands of newly forged weapons were stored. Shields, spears, swords, and bows. There was a collection of musket rifles too. Some were neatly placed in the racks, while most batches were packaged inside many crates. At the end of that room, close to the exit was another room with four blacksmith's forges. Several huge square pipes extended out from the ceiling, probably to supply the room with a sensible amount of fresh air. The furnaces however were extinguished. Jazdia took some time to scribe about this room in her journal and looked around a bit for documents. Sadly she found nothing, except the iron ores were shipped in crates bearing the stamp of Anglodisto. They pressed on, but with most members still suffering at least one injury per person the journey was long and arduous they had to make several stops to rest. On one of those brief stops, Jazdia checked for the girl's breathing and noticed that she was awake, but tried to look away after spatting a curse at her. "Murderer!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- Solomon knew that the time frame to regroup with Jazdia had changed. That wasn't so much an issue. What caught Solomon was the condition in which they'd appear. Shortly after deescalating the scuffle between Matilda and the hunters, Cedar had led them back to the farm where it looked like they had started prepping the stew. It was a little of an awkward encounter, but the farmers were receptive. They were still so when Jazdia and her group also appeared. How they knew to come out east of the village center wasn't important, it was again their condition. Cedar was as ready to take care of them as much as Matilda was ready to ask questions. Solomon insisted the party move to somewhere cleaner as much as those in Jazdia's charge wanted someplace more private for the conversation that needed to take place. So with another farewell to the farmers, the party departed Gerhard Adebert's farm. Unfortunately or fortunately depending on who was asked, the stew would not have been ready for hours still, should it still be desired. The party walked the bendy path among the farm lands back towards the town center. Solomon could see some of the wounds the party had endured. Yvonne favored one side relying on Chounan for support. Jazdia's arm was bandaged, and a guard carried a very sickly looking girl. Furthermore, he noticed that Henri was missing, and instead replaced by three others. There was the aforementioned guard and girl, and another more affluently dressed man who walked by Jazdia's side. Silently occupying the dining area of the inn, the party started to converse. Many questions were had, and there was enough injured to keep both him and Cedar occupied. Solomon worked with what he had, applying salves to help sooth sore muscles. The trek from Rascade on foot probably didn't help their comforts. As Solomon examined, Cedar used his healing magic, which great accelerated the party's recovery. In tandem, the two were able to quickly and surely return Jazdia's team to a stable and comfortable condition. "This girl is in not fighting condition. She breaths, but she is stunted. Her color and tone. I would say that she was locked from the sun or even activity for an extended period of time. I'm surprised she was able wound you as such, Yvonne." said Solomon as he unrolled a cloth he pulled out from under his garb. Among the various tools and first aid supplies was a small vial of alcohol. He cleaned the wound and worked meticulously to remove the splinters that remained. While he worked, he kept a close ear to the conversation. The comment about another bear man was interesting, but surprising that was not the cause of her injury. That would make more sense for Yvonne over the atrophied girl. Solomon kept further comments to himself. He didn't have to see it to know that Yvonne was not amused by either comment. Instead, he changed the conversation back towards their recovery and learning of the incident. "I have some salves that should help with the pain. Apply as needed." said Solomon. If healing magic coulndt nullify pain, then hopefully the salves Solomon carried could. "Once I remove the last of these splinters, you can probably cast some healing magic to fully close the wounds, Cedar. An archer's hands are her most important tools." Solomon had finished removing the last splinter, covering the wound with another clean bandage to keep it from infection. He didn't push the idea of Cedar's magic, though he felt it would be beneficial, but given Jazdia's disposition on it, he respected her wishes. Solomon turned in his chair towards the others. The unnamed girl was quiet, almost sleeping even, unmoving. She was in the worst condition of them all. As for the other new comers, they seemed mostly fine, if otherwise battered. And then there was the samurai, who had some bruising, but was stabbed in the arm. Low priority, time would be of best benefit save for the samurai who appeared more distant. "What say you, Chounan? Does your arm need treatment? I can see you were involved in whatever conflict was brought to the others, what would you require. As I've said. I have a salve here for pain, and other such medications to help ease your recovery. As for news to help sooth the mind, we have a lead towards the location of the kidnappers. Those three hunters the next table over was going to lead us there. With us reunited, it should only be a short time for recovery before we are ready to depart." Solomon also gazed towards Kaito, unnamed to Solomon, and also to the guard. Though they seemed less injured, they appeared to have been in combat recently.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "Really naow? Ya dun say?...." he drawled with a cross between bewilderment and amusement. "Well-- At leas' yas all still alive. ... 'an still gots all ya arms 'n legs." He moved to the ribs on that same side of her chest, just below her breast, and placed the other hand on her back. "Breathe in-- slow an' gen'le-- All da way in naow... hol' it a minute... Aright, now let i' out..." He moved his hands to the opposite placement, to work the other side of the chest. "An' what 'bout 'at 'Enry fellar? 'E e'r make it up ta ya?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Silver linings and all, eh?" Chortled the mercenary with amusement. "What does not kill me is going to die. Hah!" Treatment continue. Breath in to the maximum, hold it, and... that's one side done, huh. Very efficient. Old boss would pay through his nose to have Cedar in the company, instead of the couple of borderline quacks that sometimes couldn't even distinguish a break from dislocation. Breath out, breath in, hold. And it's done. A big meal and a night rest and Yvonne would be back in tip top shape. "He did. He got... I dunno, actually. Any other man would've died a dozen times over, he fell into the sewer's aqueduct and we couldn't find him. But he ain't no man. More like a golem, I guess? Probably will show up again in a while. Shame he couldn't make it here, he's tough as iron."</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "Well.. I's can think a be'r ways ta go ifn' he din't make it... Sound' like 'e made a good call ta run off 'n join ya. Were awful sudden like. --Leas' he left a note." He took his hands away from Yvonne, then stretched. "Got any o'der takers? Od'erwise, I'mma gunna take at 'ole damn platter an run off wit it." he chortled, pointing at the charcuterie tray the inn keeper had left.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark They barged into the place like the place was their own. It was a tavern, with a long common room, homey and generic. Jazdia's eyes immediately glanced at the fireplace at the end of the room. Nobody home it seemed. It was still considered morning anyway and the usual patrons were still plowing their farmland or hammering their irons. As Jazdia walked, a fragrant smell of freshly baked bread permeated the air. Quickly sitting near the fireplace, Solomon approached her to offer his medical service. Jazdia duly obliged and let him remove her bloodied bandage and fix her right hand. "I have some salves that should help with the pain. Apply as needed. Once I remove the last of these splinters, you can probably cast some healing magic to fully close the wounds, Cedar. An archer's hands are her most important tools." "No need to do that, stay away!!" Jazdia exclaimed, she yanked her hand away and shivered. The situation became so awkward, it took a while for Jazdia to regain her composure. "I will settle with conventional healing only, please don't trouble yourself. I will take the salve, I assume it has mo magic properties in it?" "It doesn't," replied Solomon solemnly. " Thank you. I... I need to talk to the barkeeper to settle our check-ins. Please stay here and wait for matilda if you don't mind. I will be back shortly." Jazdia walked to the counter and politely called for the barkeeper, and the one who answer was the perky brunette girl with freckles across her face. "Coming!" The girl stared at the looney crew with mouth agape, and when the bear dragged the bench, she seemed about to jump over the counter. "Young miss?" the elf halted her. "I am deeply sorry for the sudden inconvenience, but we are willing to book your establishment for the next twenty-four hours." Jazdia plucked four gold coins from her purse and placed them on the counter. With a weary smile, she continued. "I hope the amount is right. I will use the space near the fireplace. Don't hesitate to reach me if my... friends broke something, I will compensate you fairly. Also, when the owner is available, would you kindly tell him that Slyph is looking for him?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] For one particular Nina, the day was looking to be another dreary one. Everyone in the village had their own lodging, while travelers were scarce. Thus it was to her great surprise when what looked like an entire mercenary company came in, immediately making themselves comfortable in the dining-slash-common area. Though on a closer look, they were even more colorful than average. Not like she had seen many, but there's plenty that passed by for one reason or another over the years. "Of course, ma'am!" The girl quickly agreed, collecting the lump payment in advance. "It's two silver per person per day, this covers the room and three standard meals. You have some excess here but if your group need some extra services we'll deduce from it and you can collect the change when you check out." Polite, clear, and professionally done. It may just be a humble inn in an out of the way little village, but Nina was taught well. "Fa- the owner is out of town, have been for some time but I'll relay your message. For now, would you like some food or drink?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Glancing back at Jazdia with her brilliant emerald eyes, the girl was so cute the elf wanted to pinch her cheek. She too was very smart and attentive and everything about her just radiates positivity. It seemed Wilyadin 'Baker' had taught her well. Quite surprising for a bookworm. "For now, would you like some food or drink?" "Yes, please." said Jazdia, returning the optimism. "That would be a pot of tea. Some garlic bread and blueberry croissants." the last request was as unusual as it gets, but Jazdia knew the expertise of this old acquaintance of hers, and the girl quickly nodded to confirm it and smiled. "Coming right up. Please enjoy your stay, ma'am!" Returned to the table Jazdia, only found Matilda sitting there. Standing nearby was the confused police who seemed unsure of why he was here. One thing for sure though, he recognize Matilda, but didn't make any interaction yet. The orc paladin waited, her expression was impatient. "Greetings, Madame Matilda. I presume my party is not so late?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "Oh, A'course miss Nina! Jus' a minute!" huffed the bear, as he levered himself upright at an almost alarming speed, then shuffled to the door, before opening it gently. "C'mon in-- Lil' thang's all hidin' un'er da bed. Prolly scared o' a big thang like I is, but more ascared o's the people downstairs. Bringin' 'er up were prolly a good idear." He turned his head over his shoulder and practically bellowed, but in a smooth and clam candor-- "Hey 'ere lil' miss! 'IS nice lady a 'ere ta help ya gits all cleaned up! 'Er name's Nina, an' she seem real nice. Won't ya come ou'? I's'll wait ou'side and e'vruthung. Ain't nuthin ta be a scared a- Jus' warm water & soap! Be a shame ta le' it all goes ta waste!" He returned his attention to Nina. "I think's she more an' half-deaf. Poor thang. Ha'f blin' tuh, but 'at on'y work in muh favor. Mama say I is handsome, buh not many peoples agrees. Mos' seem ta think I's is scary." he chuckled. "Plenty a bears thinks I's cute 'dou." He heaved in a sigh, not really relieved by his own attempt at humor. "I jus' don' wanna scare er no more an she already is.. Ya know? I's worried 'bout 'er." He leaned closer to Nina, much like he had down stairs. "I hears she was a "Owned" by sumbody, and she right mad as the folks downstairs as 'put a stop ta it', if'n ya knows what I mean. I dun think she e'er had a .. normal .. life. Aint tuh late to start naow, but gittin 'er ta sees it at way? ... Gonna take a bit I fear. ... She thinks I's had a han' in it... But I's jus' foun' out 'bout it like ya has. I jus' wan' her ta has a shot a' a normal life, ya know?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "I jus' wan' her ta has a shot a' a normal life, ya know?" The encouraging words were kinda nice to hear, though rather redundant. Pretty sure Nina herself can pull that off a way better than that. If she herself was the one hiding under the bed, the last thing she wanted to see, or hear was a talking bear persuading her to come out. Nina was not too thrilled to hear the Bearman's plea. Not every day she got a chance to listen to such tragic story and be a living witness to its aftermath. Not that she wanted it anyway, her daily routine was already troublesome as is, and thrills and frills should be off the menu. Who are these people anyway? "Well then! The first step to a normal life coming right up!" Nina shifted away from Cedar and brought in her water. "So, Mr. Bear! Please leave and let the girls do their things!" Nina gestured Cedar to leave, and he left, though in a rather awkward manner, The innkeeper could still see him peeking at the door before having it closed shut. Satisfied, Nina kneeled and peered at the frightened girl. "It's alright, he is gone..." she said, smiling. "You can come out now, it's only me!" Like trying to lure and pet a puny animal, Nina extended her hand. Jorry the cornered girl looked at her cautiously, but a moment later, she realized that Nina was not lying, and she wanted to trust her. Inched for a bit, her cold hand reached the innkeeper's. As she crawled out of that, Jorry glanced for the door and felt an impulse to run, she thought that she could make it, running out of here, hiding, and making tunnels if needed until she returned home. And then what? "Are you okay?" Nina's cheerful tone, though filtered by her partial deafness was well received, and it felt like warm sunshine. "If you feel parched I can get you water. Do you have a name? My name is Nina." Name. Jorry froze, trying to remember. Her master gave her one. Jormungand. Yes, that was what she was called. Though she never quite grasp the importance of having one, at least it was not trash, not bastard child, not disaster or other hateful sobriquets that makes her bones ache. "Jorr..." Jormungand was her name, and her master used to call that name with sheer pride. "well met then, Jor." Said Nina, resting a hand gently and assuringly on her shoulder, surprisingly Jorry did not feel frightened by this stranger's touch. *** Downstairs, Jazdia Crystalspark listened patiently to the very important meeting being held at the neighboring table. Accompanied by a rather plain blonde boy, a beautiful pale woman opened a map and started to convey a message from Fred himself. There was some suggestion too after a lengthy update about what happened inside the King's court when they were gone. "Hello there," she chimed in, glancing at the newcomers with genuine mirth. "I don't know we have such an important meeting here. What gives with my invitation?"</s> <|message|>Veronica Blackwater Location: Hdur, Kindeance. @A5G@Randomness@Pakde --- "Hello there," she chimed in, glancing at the newcomers with genuine mirth. "I don't know we have such an important meeting here. What gives with my invitation?" Victoria's head perked up, swiveling away from the Guard Captain to one of the battered members of the team. The blonde elf had spoken up, and despite being in such a state, she didn't seem ready to let that stop her from contributing. "Greetings." Leaning back in her chair, the pale girl gestured broadly above the map and smiled without teeth. Why have the meeting here, where just about anyone could possibly see? It was beyond Veronica, but Matilda had given the go-ahead, which would just have to do, she supposed. As for why she'd not chosen to "settle down" where the elf was seated... Slitted eyes drifted to the table in front of the elf, loaded with croissants and teaware. Yeah, there wasn't any space there, and like hell she was going to risk getting food -or stars forbid, drink- spilled on her map. Her ruby gaze rose from that sight to meet the elf's, a single brow rising with the upward perk of one corner of her lips. "By all means, feel welcome. Any aid you can offer would hardly go amiss." She could have apologized for the unintentional snub, but given the elf's amused tone, it seemed that would be unnecessary.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia waved, a bit too much she had to grip the backrest of a chair to keep her balance. Noticing her less-than-ideal posture, the elf mentally corrected her bearing and steadily pulled the same chair and sit there "Thank you. I am Jazdia Crystalspark, I assume we know each other already." there was a brief pause for nods and affirmation. "Miss, your assessment intrigues me, you vehemently recommended us to depart immediately with consideration for the Prince's survival. I must say I doubt it. If the information is as crucial as you suggested so much it would force the capturers to take drastic action, then how can we know the prince is not already dead now as we speak? Why don't we hear about it already? What could be gained from killing the monarch silently and dumping his body on a river hoping his vengeful father would lose interest in hounding the killer's trails?" Jazdia exhaled a breath. Sadly there was no tea on the table in front of her. "The perpetrators are not stupid. The prince is a valuable political tool. I don't think they would waste their bargaining chip just because they heard some group of people are commissioned to search for the crown prince. Hell, even if Fredricus mobilize his entire army to the perpetrators' stronghold they would know it better to keep The Prince alive to be used for parlay." Jazdia glanced at Matilda with veiled disappointment. Lack of general initiative was likely the main reason. She should had been the one who speaks the loudest in this matter. "The well-prepared trap is unavoidable, it's still a few hours ride without stopping and if the news were relayed yesterday, they had the entire night to prepare their welcome mats. I'd say departing now and tomorrow morning would not make any difference, except we will be less ready the sooner we get there."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito watched as Nina went inside. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with the idea of leaving the hostess of the inn alone with the mage girl. You never know if she would get another violent outburst again and repaint the ceiling with the intestines of Nina in the process. If that would happen then Jazdia would not be too pleased. However the idea that the bear sensed no magic on the girl comforted the fox a little. It was probably going to be fine. Thinking back on her brutal assault, it was unlikely that she would focus her anger on Nina anyway. That mage girl seemed to have only used her explosive powers against the elf and Yvonne. Both of the girls had treated her former master with little respect afterall. The fox smiled at the bear with a bit of amusement as the giant furry creature tried to comfort him about his foxy appearance. However he had completely misjudged the reason for why he was hiding his true appearance. It was not that he was ashamed of how he looked. He loved his ears and tail and had zero problems flashing them around in public. Well actually one problem. Humans tend to dislike him for taking their money, valuables, wives, daughters, husbands and whatever other stuff he feels like taking in that. The list of people who have beef with Kaito was pretty long. "Thanks, but I am not ashamed of how I look or anything. It is more about that I have a rather liberal view on ownership of stuff. That often does not go well with society and there are a lot of people who have good reasons to dislike me for it and act upon their anger. I just prefer not to be easy to track down. The name is Kaito by the way." Looking at the bear, it made the fox wonder how such a nice guy ended up in the company of thieves and killers. "How about you? You seem way too nice and caring to be involved in this kind of work. How did you end up being surrounded by mercenaries and warriors?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia eyed the black-haired woman, sighing to imply that she was unsatisfied with the answer. If the answer was 'We simply don't know', such elucidations were redundant at best. Even then, she tried her best to smile. "The only thing that prevents Fred from mobilizing the whole army is his desire to maintain political stability, and certainly not because of tactical reasons. No, unlike us who dabbles extensively on elaborated plans to ensure surgical action, field affairs are a mere trivial matter to him. Miss Veronica, you said it wouldn't be wrong to plan for the worst-case scenario, and indeed, it wouldn't be wrong. But it is one of many plans and possibilities we can put our bets on--" Jazdia grimaced, the pain on her hand throbbed again to protest her decision to move away from the source of heat. The elf, slightly irritated by the notion that those people would force her to fight despite her injury, the elf dropped all the formality. "So far, your preparation for this worst-case scenario is go there, as soon as possible and be prepared to assault their strongholds. Considering my condition right now. I don't think I can agree to this plan." Jazdia leaned to her chair, her expression was stern. "I am not here to risk limbs-- no, not even a finger to entertain a farfetched possibility, even if it turned out to be true. Your Prince's life is precious, and so are my life and the people under my command. If Fred wants me to help finding his son, he has to be patient." There was an eerie silence. Matilda was clearly not amused with Jazdia's lack of gentility and the elf was stubborn as ever. Finally, under that iron helmet, came an affable yet restrained interjection, offering a compromise. "There's no need to commit to an extreme. We can depart in a few hours after taking care of the preparations, we do lack the horses to make the trip. Spend the night elsewhere, or simply camp out. Come to the morrow we'll be much closer to our objective, wherever it may be. Hell, it'll probably afford us enough time to check both in the worst case. Is this agreeable?" Though there was an apology from Veronica's side, and the compromise was intended to accommodate her situation, Jazdia remained immovable. "It will have to do," said the black haired woman diplomaticially. "We will depart tonight..." said Jazdia sharply. "Half hours before midnight and not a minute too early or too soon."</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's expression boggled for a second, before changing to a somewhat worried expression. "Wai.. wut? But yas... an' is jus' you an' me in da hall..." he stammered, before leveling out and refocusing his thoughts. "Ya aint plannin' on ROBBIN' me is ya? I ain't got nutin' really wort' stealin' nohow. Purdy much jus da clothes on muh skin. Why ya gots at disguise up fer? An' why ya stealin' from hones' folk fer? Mos' jus' barely gittin' by. Life hard fer jus' 'bout e'rybody ya know?" He shrugged. "Why I's 'ere? Wit' all 'ese people?" He looked distant for a moment. "well... As kin'a compl'cated. Apparently, "It a crime" ta keeps an eye on the fellar as lives in at great big stone house, when tryin' ta keep 'im safe. I was all lockted up fer a whole week, an' beat with a stick, wit'out food. Real not nice peoples-- I's only le' ou' by at Matilda lady-- Rush' straig' in, and den straig' out. Da village near where I's lives be in real dang'r if'n war break out. I's comes mos'ly fer 'em, e'en if they ain't the nices' ta me. I dun wan' muh home burned any more an' they does. As fer how I's foun' out? Well... As a LONG convr'sation. Ya sure ya in fer it?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] That's one side pacified. As for the other... well. Matilda stared back at the elf, nonplussed at the complete stubborness. Independent contractors like this were always a headache to deal with, moreso when their service was tied to the crown instead of herself. Calm down. Deep breath. "Moving after dark is hazardous. Explain why you think it's a good idea." Was the demand from the orc. Even if she's willing to delay, if there's some way to minimize it she damned well would try to make it happen. Matilda wouldn't mind taking only those who could get combat-ready by tomorrow, if it really came to that. "Anderson, your tasks. Take guardsman Gordon back to the capital. Keep his survival secret for now, and keep him and his family secure. Beside that, send for six horses and an enclosed cart here as soon as possible. And finally, a message for the king." Matilda went for a paper to write down the result of Jazdia's investigation, including the speculation that clan Delving was involved in the entire debacle. She didn't seal it in wax or anything, but she trusted the squire enough to deliver it without any mishap. "That is all, you can go now." "I'll have it done in the shortest time possible." Anderson nodded and turned to leave, when... "Hey hey Andy, do me a favor yeah? My stuff's at the inn still and I dont think I'll be back anytime soon. Take care of it yeah?" Yvonne grinned, tossing a key at the unamused but very much compliant squire. "Owe you one, bud."</s> <|message|>Kaito The fox could not keep himself from laughing as he pictured himself in the bear's clothes. The guy was simply so much bigger than him that he would literally drown in his robes. "Don't worry about it. I doubt your clothes are a good fit for me. Honest folk are hardly ever worth stealing from. They already get regularly emptied of their stuff by the nobles. If you want to make a good life thieving you got to go after the more dishonest folk. They got all the good stuff. However there is little room for error when doing that. Those guys at the top are quick to have you thrown in jail or executed." For a moment Kaito listened quietly to the bear's story. He wanted to prevent a war between Meche and Kindeance to save his village from hardship even when the people in it treated him like shit. "I see. I've had the honor of being a guest of the king as well. Shame he housed me in his dungeon. I guess I deserved it. Anyway, it is really nice of you to risk everything to prevent a war for people who treat you as shit. I doubt I would have done it. I guess my heart is rather small compared to your's." Kaito paused as he looked at the door where the girl was behind. All was still quiet. No sounds of explosions or fighting so that was a good thing. "I don't know when we're going to move out again. We'll hear it sooner or later. I guess there is still time for your story." Spoke the kitsune as he dropped the illusion that obscured his tail and fox-ears.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Moving after dark is hazardous. Explain why you think it's a good idea." Jazdia raised an eyebrow. "If not for sufficient rest and preparation, then to maintain confidentiality. The urgency for it has been emphasized repeatedly and despite the misgivings felt due to a certain slip of the tongue, I assume you would still want to keep this operation in low profile. Traveling with the cover of the night would be your best bet. Not to mention the advantage of the element of surprise. Humans generally take more time to be prepared during the last third of the night." Jazdia turned to Solomon, who asked about the girl she brought with her. She assumes matilda would want to hear about that too. "She was sedated with a medicine that suppresses one's magical capability as the intended side effect. A very strong painkiller reserved for the most grievous wound." What Jazdia didn't explain was the medicine and its side effect was also intended to keep herself in check so she wouldn't overexert herself when her ancient rage kicked in. One could guess that fire mages had a lot of things in common. "And with her mana reserves completely exhausted, I predicted that it would take a full twenty-four hours for her to be ready to cast a single spell, and that too would be a painful and strenuous endeavor for her body to bear. What is uncertain for me is if she would risk breaking that limit for whatever reason. The blindness she suffered was the result of her breaking that limit and reckless use of her magic." "I will not speak about compassion as a means to tame her right now. Your concern is understandable. After this, I will check on her, and then we will see. For a few days to a week to come, her wound would prevent her from doing anything significant. Chest wound is extremely stifling to u-- magic users who rely on disciplined breathing." Jazdia activated her eyes and observed upstairs, she saw that cute innkeeper putting on a fresh set of clothes on Jormungand. Contemplating for a moment, Jazdia wondered how such a thing could happen. And both girls seemed to be enjoying each other's company too! Perhaps compassion could work? Besides the heartwarming juncture, Jazdia saw the blue aura in the girl's body was barely visible and it still remained that way since their escape from the tunnels. "She is still within manageable parameters and rest assured, I intend to keep it that way."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Nina managed to have the strange girl seated. That was quite easy, considering how the girl would react earlier. She disrobed her gently and quickly noticing the bandages and trail of blood. Some were on her temple and right ear too, but luckily the wound on that part had been healed. "I will clean you up, all right?" Her answer was a somber nod. Nina twisted the washrag and wiped the girl starting on her bloodied temple and upper torso. But soon, the young Nina was startled when her towel scrubbed a burn mark on the back of Jor's shoulder. So it was true, she was branded. But Nina did not ask further, she wanted to sympathize with her but was unsure of the correct way to do it. The silence stretched uncomfortably. Finally, she blurted. "I don't think they are bad people." Nina felt Jorry's posture arched for a moment. The girl winced and turned away, "They are killers..." Her voice was strained, weary with a hint of resignation. The innkeeper didn't try to argue with it, and instead, she turned to face her, scrubbing the remaining dust on her collarbone. Her feature was unnaturally composed, pale, and inarticulate. Only her eyes, bloodshot and brown and filled with pain, seemed alive. Impulsively Nina smiled. "Would you like something warm after this? I hope you will like my clothes, they are plain, but at least clean and ironed." It sounded inane and nonsequitor, but it was the first thing that sprang to her mind and she always spoke earnestly. A moment passed, and Nina kept talking while now working on Jorry's arms, And gradually, emotions flitted across her face— offense, disbelief, gratitude, yearning, understanding. Nina helped the girl to sit on the bed and helped her to wear one of her hand-me-dows; a simple blue dress with a smiley patch sewn on its bodice. It looked old and the color had faded, but certainly much more better than the ragged skirts she was wearing. Now finished tying Jorry's long, brown hair in a simple ponytail, she looked like a real ordinary country girl. Satisfied with her work, Nina chirped. "Done and done! Would you like to go downstairs?" Jorry shook her head. "Would you like me to keep the door open?" There was a long pause until Jorry gave her a simple nod. Nina shrugged and lugged the bucket with her. "Suit yourself then." The innkeeper hummed as she walked past Kaito and Mr. Bear "Your princess' freshen up now. I will send up some food and hot tea."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "You're suggesting us to depart and strike immediately, before dawn." Stated Matilda, common sensibilities nearly brought her to reject the notion but she reconsidered. The men and women under her this time aroudn were anything but common. On the other hand, no matter what kind of opposition the potential opponents could prepare they'll likely suffer from getting woken up abruptly and the night time itself."That... I admit, it is a sound plan. Just one thing." The captain turned to the three hunters, one already dozed off on the table while the other two busy stuffing their face with food. They very nearly dropped their bread as she barked at them. "You. Is Reinhold capable of tracking at night?" "Ah- huh? Oh, yes ma'am! We had'ta track preys throughout the night at times, all of us. It's long as we've got some moonlight, it's no issue!" Good. It's decided then. She returned her attention to Jazdia, with a newfound appreciation to the elf's tactical expertise. "So be it, we depart half an hour before midnight. Rest well, all of you - tomorrow will be a long day."</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As Yvonne done with asking a favor on Squire Anderson. Chounan is done with his meal. He made a praying hand along with chopstick and said: "Thanks for the meal..." Then he arranged neatly his bowl and spoon in one area in front him on the table. "May I ask Lady Yvonne, What brought you into a Mercenary Group? You can be like Madame Matilda and other noblewomen who are serving as Knights." Chounan made a gentle asked to Yvonne who were still besides him.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "Well.. 'n orders ta un'erstan' why I's 'ere, ya gotta knows not e'eryones in mys'ville's a to'al ass. 'Eres a' leas' 4 peoples in taown as ain't right asses-- Da inn keeper fellar, Da mage twins: Vanquis an' 'is sis'r Flo, an' da blacksmith lady. In dis case, it'd be da mage twins, as runs da library. Vanquis a bit o' a tool-- Sharp a'a razor, but dumb a'a post. Real gif'ed, but always inna rush. Ne'er does i' righ', an' always blowed stuff up. 'Is si'er on 'e odder han'-- she real bookish. Real smar', and real careful. Anyway-- Vanquis decided he wanna keep up wit' all da latest happ'nins, and set 'iself up some kin'a 'scryin pool' outta an ol' bird bath. It blowed up acourse-- E'ery thang at fellar makes gets blowed up." Cedar made a dramatic motion with his paws to indicate just how big the explosions were, while making a "boooch!" sound. "Anyhoo-- AFORE it blowed up, at fellar see'd a vision 'bout at fellar in da big stone house gettin' bumped off, an' a war breakin' out. Made poor Vanquis right cross. Res' o' da villagers was sure happy when I tooked up da man'le-- It were Aug'st 'en, an' da farmers was right busy-- an' da loggers was righ' happy ta sees me off-" He huffed irritably. "'Em Fellars--- got rocks fer brains, I swears.. E'er since da fores' stopped tryin' ta keel the lot o' em, 'ey been alls 'sup'r eag'r' ta chop doawn purdy much e'ery tree inna fores'. They's gunna kill it dead as hell if'n they keeps at shit up. 'Ey righ' cross a' me an' muh pappy fer keepin' em outta all bu' 'e new-grown parts a' da place. Ah thin's 'eys was right 'appy ta sees me off 'n fact. I showed up ou'side Rascade 'bout a month la'er, and ask'd da local birdies if'n 'eyed keeps an eye on at fellar, an' afore I knowed it, I's gettin whacked onna head while I's sleepin' ou'side- Woked up in chains, an' got beat a bunch af'er." Just then the door behind him opened, and Nina re-emerged, carrying the used toiletries. "Your princess' freshened up now. I will send up some food and hot tea." Cedar's head practically whipped around like lightning to take in the young woman. "Oh! Thank'ye kin'ly miss Nina! How she doin'? She feelin' any' be'er?" His words came about a bit too exuberant, but it was hard to suppress the palpable relief and thankfulness he was feeling. "If'n ya need anythung, I'd be happy ta help yas 'nyways I can-- Hones'."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne was back at her stew after saying her part, though she kept one ear open for the discussion. That seemed to be ending too, with the plan finalized as a night assault. Ballsy. She liked that. She'd be blind as bat, yes, but hopefully there'll be enough fire and explosion around for her to look at her surroundings. As for the chance of this resolving without conflict? Hah. As if. "Hmm? Me?" The mercenary switched her attention to Chounan, using her bread to wipe the last bit of the stew before chomping on it. "I suppose it's an old story now. Short version, my parents didn't want me to play knight. Gotta be all prettied up nice and tidy, you see? They're bad with their finance. Like, really bad. Who even hold a party every month? Not even the royal family throw around that much money. They're trying to marry me off to some upstart noble that's trying to establish their position in the high society." The story continued through full mouth, a sight that'll give her parents aneurysm should they be there to witness it. Yvonne swallowed before taking another bite, barely pausing in her animated telling. "Ain't having none of that, yeah? What kind of life is that? Basically dead inside. Grabbed great-grandpa's sword and left with a few stuff I can pawn off easily. Never looked back."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "It's okay! You are our guests! Just don't startle her, OK?" She said, a bit startled herself after seeing a man with a bit of beastly features next to The Talking Bear. She shook her head again and sighed, wondering if these bizarre visitors would bring some kind of omen. That will be a rouble for Father to sort out, I guess... "I will take my leave then." The innkeeper winked before going downstairs. *** Jazdia nodded. At least they have reached an understanding. A bit gravitated on her side, actually, and she had prepared to deal with Matilda's lengthy argument. Turned out the orc captain was not as confrontative as her looks suggested-- or maybe that side of her was well hidden and only be shown through action? "There is another thing," said Jazdia, now in a more relaxed tone. "I enlisted one of my field operators into our party. His intel on Rascade's underworld had proven valuable and helped us immensely during yesterday's operation. His mastery of illusion magic and hypnotism also can be put to good use in a clandestine type of mission. He was the guy who carried the sack full of evidence onto our table." Jazdia leaned forward. "By looking at your reaction, I assume you just realize his existence just now, don't you?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan I see. 神様のお恵みがありますように... May the God be with you. Who knows, maybe twisted fate give you a better future. Well then, want for another round? You should eat plenty for your recovery. Once you brought back into good shape, let's have some drink. I noticed you are a good drinker back then." Chounan replied and smiled.</s> <|message|>Kaito For a moment the fox observed Veronica Blackwater as he tried to get a bit of a read of her emotions. However the pale girl turned out to be pretty proficient at masking them. Not that it was too surprising for someone who was doing shady stuff for the king himself. The girl probably received pretty much direct orders from and directly reported to the guy on the throne himself. A loyal tool to the king was Kaito's guess. As Cedar made his way to the door, the kitsune noticed how just for a very brief moment her senses sharpened as she followed the movement of the bear. There was this slight change in her posture when the door was opened and it changed again the moment it closed. ""Blackwater, eh? I'm pretty sure I've heard that name before somewhere not too long ago. Three, maybe four decades or so. There was this farmer who used a story about a certain Lord Blackwater to scare his kids into behaving. If you misbehaved he'd come out at night to take you back to his lair and feast on your blood." The fox paused a bit and gave Veronica a friendly smile " It must be a total coincidence that you share a family name with a vampire from a folk tale. Just as the curtains happen to be closed in broad daylight for some added secrecy of our operation." Kaito could not help but wonder about the colorful cast of their party. The king certainly had gathered a bunch of outsiders and anomalies to search for his son. From a bearman to a presumably vampire to a mythical fox creature. Not to mention that the doctor seemed to have a funny smell around him. It sure made the orc and the elf look like normal ones. "Anyway, since we're departing half an hour before midnight. If there aren't any specific questions you want me to answer I'm off to grab some extra food and take a nap."</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- "I believe I know whom you are speaking of, Mister Kaito. He is more than the villain of folktales. I once had the pleasure to make his acquaintance. To say he was less than hospitable would be putting it nicely. Last I spoke with him, he was in search of something. A protege perhaps. I do not really know. He was cordial enough during my encounter, so I don't think much ill of him. If I remember correctly, he probably still lives at the Tretagor convergence." said Solomon, his head tilting to the side as he was attempting to remember details about the one time he had encountered Lord Blackwater. He then lookws forward, his head slightly shaking from side to side. "I cannot say what he is up to these days. We didn't have much to offer each other to maintain communication." Solomon leaned forward in his chair, his eyes looking intently at Kaito, "Not any questions relating to the mission at hand. I am curious, however. Jazdia spoke of your mastery of illusory magic, with whom did you study?" Solomon's voice didn't carry any hints of interrogation, rather, he seemed to have genuine intrigue. The study of magic wasn't a well distributed occupation, so to have someone be a master in the school of illusion was impressive.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Despite exuberant cheering and being pressured to eat more, the poor bear was experiencing the strange mix of sensations that frequently accosted him this time of year. Being physically stuffed to bursting, while remaining ravenously hungry. Well, at least the mind-altering edge had been taken off. He had polished off a good 2/3 of the cauldron by himself, but the large quantity of water in the stew had bulked it up. He would have practically sloshed when he walked, causing him to have a rather profound need to find the little bear's room. (Do bears go in the woods? Yes. Yes they do.) Given that he could not physically consume any more, but would certainly be able to finish it in a few hours, he asked if they could move the remainder to the inn, where the rest of the group was holed up. "better check with them on their end first-- They aren't usually keen on outside food being brought up." In hindsight, it seemed like a sensible enough objection, given the nature of their business, but on the other... He looked at the cauldron with a sad expression. He REALLY wanted to eat the rest of it, but was already suffering the effects of fluid overload. "I'ma go fin' out 'en" he moped. "You SURE you can't finish it Mr Bear?" chortled the farm-hand that had sold the lot. "Eyes too big for your stomach?" Cedar rolled his eyes at the comment. "I saids i' woun'na be all at oncet! Dayum! Ain't no ways 'at whole thang gonna fit in muh gut!" "I dunno, it's pretty close! You got most of it in there!" The entire crew got a chuckle out of that at his expense. "Let us know if they say it's OK Mr Bear. We'll hold on to it a bit longer until then." Cedar thanked them kindly, stood up, and immediately had to lean on his walking stick. The need to find a secluded tree was very pronounced. He waved at the farmers, then started hobbling down the road, before dipping to the side into a densely wooded copse of trees to see to his business. One of the farmer's dogs had followed him in curiosity, but took off terrified the moment it caught wind of what he was discretely letting out back there. Cedar chuckled at the dog, finished his business, then sauntered back onto the road, and toward the inn. The sun had moved noticeably in the sky, and he guessed it was early afternoon. Feeling like a new bear, he went through the door.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Not long after Cedar left the premises, a man walked in. "I don't know we have a guest," he said, walking closer to the currently most populated table. A man of the same age as Jazdia approached with a carefree smile. Just by looking, he seemed like a good man who got along with women. He had a handsome face and droopy eyes, with masculine, chiseled features. His slightly long black hair had smooth waves and his eyes were the usual brown. His elven characteristic contrasted with his plain, natural attractiveness. One that does not showy and easily forgotten but still very pleasant to look at. His traveling outfit uniform was worn-out, a ranger tunic like Jazdia wore, but his was adorned with ornamental plaid cloth hanging from his belt and a silver patch on her shoulder with a symbol of an eight-pointed compass in a circle. His voice was cultured and smooth, and he gave off a completely different impression compared to the brusque attitude that seemed to be the trademark of his fairer counterpart. "Miss Jazdia. What a pleasant surprise!" he greeted, though, with a hint of sarcasm. The elf smiled back, but the man smooth yet evasively turned to Matilda. "Wilyadin is the name, but folks often call me Baker. I am so happy one of the king's retinue visited my humble establishment! I should offer a handshake but that's not how an innkeeper expresses their hospitality. Ninaa!" "No need to shout, I'm right here like I always am. How'd your meeting with the Guildmaster go?" The owner wagged his fingers. "Tut! Tut!" Now is not the time. Have you prepared the food? Rooms and bed?" Nina pouted, such a poor sight for a cute young lady. "I have! But we need to cook the stew again!" across the table and counter that separated the common room from the kitchen she showed the now-empty pot and placed it back on the stove. "If you have time to dally you should help me! I've asked Nob to fetch the grocery, we are short-handed at the moment!" The owner glanced at her and chuckled "I am sure you can manage sweety! I have a matter to discuss with one of our guests!" "But, Fatheeeerr!" Ignoring his 'daughter' plea and possibly underestimating the possibility of having cooking utensils thrown at him, the Baker continued. "I am very tempted to ask what's the occasion, but I guess I will invoke the old saying that ignorance is bliss." He shuffled his gaze on Matilda, then to Veronica, Solomon, Kaito, and lastly Jazdia. "I assume your visit is not coincidental, eh Boss?" he said, still smiling. "No, not really." answered the elf after a long and heavy sigh. "I need to take some of your old equipment with me. Could that be arranged?" The elven owner flinched, but his jolly persona remained unchanged. "Goodness gracious, how long has it been? Ten years? And Your P's and Q's have not improved a bit. Of course, I still have them, and I will lend them to you if you have the password~~" "Those are the property of CSA, and can be recalled or confiscated if needed." That cheerfulness faded almost instantly. "But you disbanded it... have you not? And you are retired. Then by what right do you demand me to surrender my mementos?" Silence, while Jazdia kept her deviant look, other patrons also looked at him uncomfortably. Then, a smile cracked on his face. The amiability returned, but this time it was laced with cautiousness. "Of course, I was just messing with you. You can use COMMS. Anything else is off-limits though. This is Kindeance. If you want something, you have to offer something else in return. Well, let's have it settled then. Ladies, and gentlemen, please enjoy the food and drinks... and atmosphere." He bowed, and as the man straighten up, he winked at the other two ladies.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kaito Before Kaito had the opportunity to answer Solomon's questions a man walked in. He immediately grabbed all attention and started to shout some commands to Nina. Judging from the fact that he was an elf the fox figured that he'd be some old acquaintance of his boss. For a moment the fox felt a slight discomfort about this elven man's presence but he could not really place where it was coming from. Maybe it was the way he was talking to Jazdia? However she seemed to be just as cold and distant to this man as she was to pretty much every other person. For a moment Kaito's eyes followed them as they entered one of the back rooms. However he turned his head quickly around again to the others at the table. Whatever Jazdia and the other elf were going to discuss wasn't his business. But it was still interesting enough that the fox turned one of his fluffy ears towards the open door before continuing to speak with Solomon. "Oh? Is he actually real? Didn't expect that. Scary. I better be on my best behavior. Don't want to get sucked dry." Spoke Kaito with a big smile. The doctor's question about his magic took the fox by surprise. Not that Jazdia had shared that information but the fact that Solomon seemed to be under the impression that you needed to study in order to obtain magic. That is probably the case for humans but not so much for him. "My magic? I've not studied with people in particular. It's something that comes natural to me. More of a family thing really." Kaito paused a bit as he created two small illusionary knights performing a jousting match on the table. "Of course you still need to practice the craft intensively. Mostly by opening yourself up to all the possibilities. Training your creativity and visualizing the details in your mind." As the kitsune spoke those words he expanded the illusionary spectacle with rows of cheering crowds. Those with a keen eye could recognize many of the people they had encountered so far in the crowd. There was a tiny constable Delving, a tiny Gerald and some tiny soldiers and of course a tiny Jazdia, Yvonne and Chounan. Kaito turned towards the doctor. "So what is your story? There is more to you than just being a doctor, right?"</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- "So you were born with natural talent?" pondered Solomon. Though he admitted he still practiced using his magic and expanding his imagination. Still, Kaito's demonstration was very detailed and though the size was small, he could see the individualism in each illusory figure. Solomon already didn't take Jazdia's claim as inflation, but he firmly believed in Kaito's ability. "That is impressive. I look forward to working with you." Solomon turned to look at the door Jazdia and the inn's host had walked through, the same door Nina brought out trays of food repeatedly throughout the day. Solomon didn't catch everything they said to each other. Beyond the host's initial introduction, Solomon only caught a bit of their conversation. He seemed to know Jazdia and she knew him. A history existed between them, and he did not want to interrupt. Though he caught a bit of their conversation. Somewhere in the kitchen is probably where he kept whatever the comms was. Solomon turned his head again, the hood over his eyes shifting. His gaze went back towards Kaito as he asked a question in return. "Indeed, my friend. I am more than a doctor, though I spend a lot of my time as such. No, I am also a researcher of sorts. There is only so much magic and medicine can heal. Such as how despite Cedar and my efforts, Yvonne still requires rest, or the girl upstairs is still in poor condition. I am studying methods and means to go beyond what conventional casters and doctors can provide. One day, I might even be able to bring those whose life was taken early back to their loved ones. Ah, but such a day is still far off into the future. For now, I take it one step at a time. It might not hold a candle to Cedar, but my work is honest and I am proud to lend my hand."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] Matilda watched impassively as the baker introduced himself. She kept her silence through the exchange, eyes narrowing with mounting paranoia as it passed. The knight waited for the two elves to finish, but Jazdia went upstairs instead of returning. That suited her just fine. Briskly following after, Matilda spared a glance to ensure no one followed before disappearing from the common's view. "I will not pry into your past, or your network." The orc caught Jazdia before the latter entered a room. "But I require your words that it will not negatively affect the mission at hand."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia was clearly not pleased with this untimely interruption. Though Matilda's suspicion was probably justified, they had all the chance in the world to join in and listen when she had a talk with Baker. Heck, it even would save her time from explaining to their team leader how the devices works. "No, it will not," she replied with a deadpan expression. "On the contrary, I just solved our communication issue and ensured we can leave safely. From what I heard we probably have multiple targets, so splitting might be an option. Anything else? If not, I will take my leave and rest."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "None. That will be all, miss Jazdia. I will see you tonight." There's nothing but the elf's own word to it, but Matilda had to be satisfied with that much for now. Returning downstairs, the orc sat alone and glowered at the rest of the room as she had her meal and waited for Anderson's delivery. She'll make sure no mistake will happen before the departure. After that? Maybe she can catch some sleep. ***** Time passed. People were roused an hour before midnight, to fully prepare for the rescue mission. Reinhold was already up and awaited, still rather haggard but with a hint of sharpness that was absent from his earlier form. As promised Anderson had horses and a wagon delivered earlier, though not in person considering the other tasks he had to do. Cedar shared the wagon with Veronica, the horses seemingly too distressed by the latter's presence to allow riding, everyone else having their own horse to ride. At the forefront rode Reinhold, the hunters' words rang true as he traced the terrain without much difficulty despite the limited lighting. The half moon offered sufficient illumination to reveal dark silhouettes. Still, it made for a slow travel. The horses couldn't move quickly, for even an errant pebble or branch could prove hazardous should they trip on it. Besides, Reinhold regularly had to stop and wander sideways to ensure that they're on the right track. Progress, however, was steady. It was about four hours in when the first issue arose. Reinhold's guidance had slowly led the party toward the village of Fanghorn, where one particularly lowkey baron Otto von Kruber resided and ruled from. Around five miles out, Matilda ordered for a scrying for confirmation. This particular scry seemed to have punched through a veil as she abruptly gained direct vision of the prince sleeping in a well-furnished room. He looked unharmed at a glance, but that's not the issue - it was the location, which pinged not from Fanghorn but from Pesti instead, about seven miles to a different direction. That village was governed by one Sir Caspar, who received the land for contribution on quelling a potential rebellion a few years ago. What to do?</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark It was three or less in the morning when Veronica reported her finding. It was the pinpointed location of the prince himself and his general well-being which apparently remained unspoiled for the past six days. What concerned them was the part where her finding conflicted with the hunter's account, which pointed to Fanghorn as the location where the kidnappers went. Jazdia huffed and dismounted from her horse. It was not really a big deal for her, but she wanted to hear what the team leader had to say about this information, and the intel gatherer herself. So the elf opened her pocketwatch and called for an emergency meeting. The map of Kindeance opened, and her enchanted arrows provided the light. Ten minutes at most. "How much is the enemy on each site?" she began, eyeing Veronic. "In Pesti especially."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "If the prince is not at Pesti, we will go to Fanghorn, true. But I am afraid he would not be there when we get there." "Matilda. Infiltration doesn't have to be done with deception or furtive actions. Whoever is in charge in Pesti doesn't have any reason to welcome you with hostility, lest they incur the wrath of the King himself. You are still Fred's right-hand woman. Go to Pesti and visit the village as King's aide, Take Veronica with you and scan the entire place." A brass commpass now pinning the map on one of its edges, courtesy of Jazdia herself. "This is a portable communication device. Press the golden button and it will dial its counterpart, the silver button is to record voices. When your team finds something, you should inform me quickly. I will do the same on my end." Jazdia activated her eyes to see if everyone was close enough to hear her properly. If someone interpreted two glowing orbs in the darkness as a form of intimidation, so be it. "Remember that Pesti is an ordinary village. We don't have to initiate a fight if it can be helped. Get in, look around and leave. If your prince is indeed there, I will regroup with you as soon as possible. Remember that they have nowhere to run, even if they somehow got a wind of your scrying, they can't relocate him anywhere far enough we can't trail it. If you don't have any problem with my plan. Go ahead and pick that device."</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: River Crossing, Kindeance --- The dilemma was not looking to resolve soon. Despite being that much closer to rescuing the prince, the conflicting direction from the hunter and the seer was troubling. Whether it was a trick to throw off the seer, or even if the lords were working together and the prince was moved after Reinhold had left, there were plenty of unknowns. Still, there were two choices, and each had valid reasons to be true. Given Kaito's previous comment, Veronica's plan to commit to one village was sound. Even if the enemy had knowledge of their approach, it would be difficult to stop them with their combined expertise. On the other hand, Matilda's worry that should they choose wrong, the prince would be in that much more danger. The possibility of the abductors simply killing the prince in desperation was that much higher. Pondering on it more, even if they did choose right, that desperation could act sooner. A slight breeze blew across the field over the meeting, the calm cool air doing little to settle the rising tension. Solomon turned his body so that he better faced Matilda, "My shadows can travel as far and as long as I need them. The only hurdle that would exist is the time it would take them to travel. We are close so they can travel there and back within the quarter hour." Shadows were fast, and though they could not speak, could easily communicate with Solomon. A viable ally to have and has served Solomon well when it came to looking for the lost. At the least they could keep eyes on one village and could provide any information that might change the view point of the current plan. As it stood currently, Solomon agreed with much of what Jazdia said. Though caution should be taken if going that route, there was not much reason if at all for the lord to refuse Matilda and her entourage. He kept his opinion quiet, yet also prepared to call forth his shadows.</s> <|message|>Kaito Much to Kaito's surprise, Veronica seemed to share his opinion about the potential of this whole situation being a trap and that it was safer to move in full force. However the point about what if the prince isn't there is still valid. If they moved to one location and their target happened to be in the other that would be a drag. Their captors might relocate him and finding a lead again would take a considerable amount of time and time was the thing they were rather short on due to all the happenings in the capital. The fox smiled. The presented dilemma was certainly entertaining. For him it was like a puzzle that was begging to be solved. "Maybe we should take a few minutes to think this through. Have any of you ever wondered what the enemies' end game is? Like what they truly are trying to achieve? They tried to kill the king, right? But they only kidnapped his son? If you want to seize the throne, why let the prince live? As long as he's around, he will always have a stronger claim than whomever wants to sit on Fredrik's chair. It makes little sense to me to try to kill the king but keep his boy alive." Kaito paused a bit before he continued to speak. " Anyway, what I am trying to say is that if they have kept the prince alive till this point, he represents more value alive to our enemies then dead. It does not seem logical to kill him if we moved to the wrong place. I think they will either stay put where they are or relocate if that were to happen. Someone could keep an eye on Fangorn while the rest move to Pesti or the other way around. If they move out, we spot them and can trail them to their next hideout." For a moment the kitsune thought deeply about the situation. Killing the father while kidnapping the son was a strange sequence of doing things. He could totally imagine that someone would kidnap the prince to gain leverage over the king but well, that required the king to be alive so in such a scenario the assasination attempt on the king made little sense. If they would try to take the throne, keeping a competitor alive seemed like a bad choice. Unless that competitor was actually running out of patience waiting for his father to kick the bucket. Could it be that the prince was involved in a different role than just a helpless victim? In Kaito's mind that was certainly plausible but he decided not to share this string of thoughts with the rest of the group. Some of them seemed to be fiercely loyal to the king and would probably not like such insinuations. Noticing how Jazdia had activated her eyes, Kaito quickly looked around just to see if the elf was looking at something specific. However that did not seem to be the case. The fox just guessed that it was a sign that he should shut up. "I'll shut up now and let you ladies decide our course of action."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "I care not about your rescue, mister bear." Reinhold pointed out the reminder, that his purpose here wasn't the same as the rest of them even if the two goals were reasonably aligned. "There are men I want dead in that place, whether your group decide to attack it or not. I'll go myself if I have to." Probability of success? Zero, basically. Maybe he can take down a couple with a well-prepared ambush and traps, but there's no way a lone hunter like Reinhold can fulfil his revenge without aid. But he will make the attempt anyway - results be damned. A man got to have principles, aye?</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "As you've said before, I have no direct command over you." Matilda glared at the elf without hiding her annoyance, momentarily considering how satisfying it would be to throttle that reedy neck. But calm down, calm down. The enemies were close. No need to take it out on an ally, no matter how belligerent. The orc took the communication device, steely gaze never leaving Jazdia's figure. "Fine. Splitting the force it is. Solomon, start sending your shadows now. I want eyes on both villages. Veronica, I need report on both place's potential hostile, now." Independent contractors, bah. If given the choice, Matilda would've just took a regiment of the army and be done with it.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Twenty years in the organization and Jazdia perfectly knew how exactly she sounded like. Not every people find her leadership style... convenient, and she knew it often stems from her ability to see what most people could not. She had tried to tone it down many times, obviously, but now due to her being pulled out of retirement, she forgot some of her settings. But hey, Matilda always had the option to decline her plan and devise her own. If it was sensible enough, of course. As if anything she ever planned was sensible enough... "Why do we need Solomon's shadow in both villages again? You are going to Pesti, will you not? And I will proceed to Fanghorn. I don't think you will need summoned entities. One because once discovered, it shows hostility from your side, and two, what purpose does it serve? Communication? You already have one." Jazdia shrugged. "But, hey, don't let me stop you. You are the boss, right?" A plus-one if fighting broke out? Could work, but she doubted it would be anything Matidal couldn't handle. Besides, the head was always a precious commodity, and whoever dares to lay finger on Fred's myrmidon was either a madman or someone who could live without a head, or four other limbs. But a madman though... "Well, you picked the commpass..." said Jazdia, smiling rather gleefully. Who cares if the orc Paladin looked very irritated by her brazenness? She decided to roll with her plan anyway. "Try to give each other sitreps whenever possible, okay? If you think the place is an obvious trap you lots couldn't handle, please inform me immediately. I will need Mister Solomon to go with me. Of course, if he doesn't mind. If anyone else wants to tag along with me, you should consult Matilda first."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kaito Much to Kaito's surprise, Veronica seemed to share his opinion about the potential of this whole situation being a trap and that it was safer to move in full force. However the point about what if the prince isn't there is still valid. If they moved to one location and their target happened to be in the other that would be a drag. Their captors might relocate him and finding a lead again would take a considerable amount of time and time was the thing they were rather short on due to all the happenings in the capital. The fox smiled. The presented dilemma was certainly entertaining. For him it was like a puzzle that was begging to be solved. "Maybe we should take a few minutes to think this through. Have any of you ever wondered what the enemies' end game is? Like what they truly are trying to achieve? They tried to kill the king, right? But they only kidnapped his son? If you want to seize the throne, why let the prince live? As long as he's around, he will always have a stronger claim than whomever wants to sit on Fredrik's chair. It makes little sense to me to try to kill the king but keep his boy alive." Kaito paused a bit before he continued to speak. " Anyway, what I am trying to say is that if they have kept the prince alive till this point, he represents more value alive to our enemies then dead. It does not seem logical to kill him if we moved to the wrong place. I think they will either stay put where they are or relocate if that were to happen. Someone could keep an eye on Fangorn while the rest move to Pesti or the other way around. If they move out, we spot them and can trail them to their next hideout." For a moment the kitsune thought deeply about the situation. Killing the father while kidnapping the son was a strange sequence of doing things. He could totally imagine that someone would kidnap the prince to gain leverage over the king but well, that required the king to be alive so in such a scenario the assasination attempt on the king made little sense. If they would try to take the throne, keeping a competitor alive seemed like a bad choice. Unless that competitor was actually running out of patience waiting for his father to kick the bucket. Could it be that the prince was involved in a different role than just a helpless victim? In Kaito's mind that was certainly plausible but he decided not to share this string of thoughts with the rest of the group. Some of them seemed to be fiercely loyal to the king and would probably not like such insinuations. Noticing how Jazdia had activated her eyes, Kaito quickly looked around just to see if the elf was looking at something specific. However that did not seem to be the case. The fox just guessed that it was a sign that he should shut up. "I'll shut up now and let you ladies decide our course of action."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "I care not about your rescue, mister bear." Reinhold pointed out the reminder, that his purpose here wasn't the same as the rest of them even if the two goals were reasonably aligned. "There are men I want dead in that place, whether your group decide to attack it or not. I'll go myself if I have to." Probability of success? Zero, basically. Maybe he can take down a couple with a well-prepared ambush and traps, but there's no way a lone hunter like Reinhold can fulfil his revenge without aid. But he will make the attempt anyway - results be damned. A man got to have principles, aye?</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "As you've said before, I have no direct command over you." Matilda glared at the elf without hiding her annoyance, momentarily considering how satisfying it would be to throttle that reedy neck. But calm down, calm down. The enemies were close. No need to take it out on an ally, no matter how belligerent. The orc took the communication device, steely gaze never leaving Jazdia's figure. "Fine. Splitting the force it is. Solomon, start sending your shadows now. I want eyes on both villages. Veronica, I need report on both place's potential hostile, now." Independent contractors, bah. If given the choice, Matilda would've just took a regiment of the army and be done with it.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Twenty years in the organization and Jazdia perfectly knew how exactly she sounded like. Not every people find her leadership style... convenient, and she knew it often stems from her ability to see what most people could not. She had tried to tone it down many times, obviously, but now due to her being pulled out of retirement, she forgot some of her settings. But hey, Matilda always had the option to decline her plan and devise her own. If it was sensible enough, of course. As if anything she ever planned was sensible enough... "Why do we need Solomon's shadow in both villages again? You are going to Pesti, will you not? And I will proceed to Fanghorn. I don't think you will need summoned entities. One because once discovered, it shows hostility from your side, and two, what purpose does it serve? Communication? You already have one." Jazdia shrugged. "But, hey, don't let me stop you. You are the boss, right?" A plus-one if fighting broke out? Could work, but she doubted it would be anything Matidal couldn't handle. Besides, the head was always a precious commodity, and whoever dares to lay finger on Fred's myrmidon was either a madman or someone who could live without a head, or four other limbs. But a madman though... "Well, you picked the commpass..." said Jazdia, smiling rather gleefully. Who cares if the orc Paladin looked very irritated by her brazenness? She decided to roll with her plan anyway. "Try to give each other sitreps whenever possible, okay? If you think the place is an obvious trap you lots couldn't handle, please inform me immediately. I will need Mister Solomon to go with me. Of course, if he doesn't mind. If anyone else wants to tag along with me, you should consult Matilda first."</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: River Crossing, Kindeance --- With a plan reaching finalization, Solomon went ahead with summoning his shadows. Cedar might recognize some of the motion and energy, as it was very similar to when he animated Birk back at the watery tower ruins. Despite the silver in the energy, there was no light. Solomon held out a hand and began to mutter under his breath. His sleeves shifted off his arms revealing the bareness and age of his skin. His fingers were partially held out, his palm swirling energy and particles of blackness. The energy he cast emanated from the large tome strapped to his back, and circled around his torso down his outstretched arm. Then suddenly the power went straight into the ground. "I call upon thee, shadows. Heed my command and come forth." said Solomon softly, barely over a whisper. From the ground a pool of black nothingness began to form, absorbing the little light that was cast upon it. Slowly at first, then faster as they began to emerge, vague shapes of humanoid entities rose out of the pool. Like silhouettes, no details could be made from them save for their profile. Some appeared to be male, female, short, tall, but things such as age or species remained impossible to tell. About ten of them stood on the ground, soundlessly, and perfectly still. The energy faded, and what remained were the shadows and Solomon. "You need not worry about their discovery. I guarantee they will not. Much like their name, shadows cannot produce sound, nor can they interfere with man. They can hide in any crevice that houses darkness and any space shaded from the light." said Solomon. He turned his head slightly so that he appeared to be facing Jazdia though the shadows of his hood concealed his face. He let down his arm, the sleeves of his overcoat sliding back down to conceal his arms. Solomon whispered silent words. Those close enough could hear his breath exhale, but would not understand what he said. The shadows immediately reacted, collapsing into the ground. They resembled actual shadows of people standing in the light, though no figure existed to cast them. With speed superior to that of their horses, the shadows moved towards either village, gliding across the ground. In mere seconds, they were out of sight. "They will monitor the villages where we cannot. Should something of trouble arise, they will approach you as subtlety as they can. Of course, they will not reveal themselves to anyone not present here. They will keep a close eye on either manor for the prince should they attempt to smuggle him. They know as much as I, so I trust their discretion. Though they cannot speak, I understand them. For anyone else, treat their appearance as a warning." "As for the plan at hand, if Guard Captain Matilda has no objections, I will gladly join Jazdia. The prince is close at hand, and we should be careful not to squander the opportunity. Lady Veronica and Cedar have great skill when it comes to location, so I trust them to successfully locate him. Guard captain Matilda, it is not just the King who has trust in you. We should stand together on this."</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito sighed. As usual Jazdia was drawing her own plans again without any regard for what others thought or said. That elf could be such a pain in the ass at times. And yet it was one of the traits the kitsune liked about her. She was never boring and complacent. It was truly a miracle that Madame Mathilda hasn't exploded yet because of Jazdia's way of communicating. It would surely be a sight to behold. However the orc showed a degree of remarkable patience that he hadn't expected of her. "I don't believe in coincidences. I still think the fact that we suddenly broke through with scrying is entirely intentional from their side and that us splitting up is exactly what they want us to do. But hey, why listen to someone who specializes in trickery and misdirection….." Spoke the fox mildly annoyed as he was convinced that this whole situation was an obvious trap. For a moment he contemplated what to do next. The decision was already made to split up so there was little that could be done about that. The only thing that wasn't clear yet was who would go to what place. "So about this splitting up thing. Who's going to tag along with Mathilda to Pesti and who's going with Jazdia to Fanghorn? Can I assume that you ladies have thought about what abilities you want on what front?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "I don't believe in coincidences. I still think the fact that we suddenly broke through with scrying is entirely intentional from their side and that us splitting up is exactly what they want us to do. But hey, why listen to someone who specializes in trickery and misdirection….." Spoke the fox mildly annoyed as he was convinced that this whole situation was an obvious trap. Jazdia's glowing eyes stared at Kaito in a way it was intended to bore his skull open. Sure she didn't mind an alternative plan, but so far nobody offered none, save what Matilda has planned, and if putting all eggs in one basket could be considered a plan that is. "Then what is it that the enemy does not want?" she said, though on low voice, the belligerence of her tone was apparent. If it was someone else, she would have forgiven it, but Kaito was one of her agents, and he doubted her like he was yesterday's recruit, no... not even yesterday's recruit would dare to say that. Unless he is smart enough to devise his own plan. "Ten minutes have passed! We can't stay here long. If any of you folks have another plan, say it now." declared Jazdia, there was a hint of challenge in it. "How we should handle this interference? My plan essentially is to check all avenues and cut their escape route, and improvise with the upcoming situation. We have the means to communicate now so coordination can be done easily. It is not a perfect plan, no plan is, but at least a flawed plan is better than idling about with no clear direction."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Regardless how many what ifs, no one suggested a better plan. The last bout of scrying before the partings revealed several things, in both villages. Neither seemed to have any activity going on at the dead of the night. On Pesti side, the prince was scried to be inside the barn of a farmstead in the outskirt of the village. Several completely out of place tents were erected around it, where armed men in non-uniform equipment were standing guard outside while a larger number sleep in the tent. About ten awake including the sentries, and roughly twenty more in place. Meanwhile, on Fanghorn the lord's fort looked almost completely deserted save for several sentries nodding off on the top of the battlement. The inner side, however, was a mystery - wards were built into the stone, a standard construction from a harsher times to protect fortifications from magical attacks. "Veronica, Chounan, Yvonne, with me. Double time. The rest of you, follow the elf." The wagon was parked as discreetly as possible on the roadside. Then, finally, the group separated. ***** At the outskirt of Pesti, the wide farmstead came into view in the form of various torches kept lit by the armed defenders. There's fence surrounding the entire place, but it's more to keep animals in or out than to deter people seeking entry. However, spread evenly in the darkness were sentries keeping watchful eyes outward. They didn't seems to be doing that good of a job, constantly nodding off under Veronica's darksight, but there's no way they'll miss a direct approach. In the distance, the lord's squat little fort loomed on the top of a natural hill. ***** Nearing Fanghorn, the party slowed down as they beheld the village. Not far off from the riverside was an artificially elevated mound where a stone keep was raised. A ring of stone wall surrounded it near the top, a northern gate giving fast access toward the bridge if necessary while the southern gate opened directly to the village. The inner village was attached directly to the southern side of the fort, where the more important buildings were kept. Surrounding it was palisade walls, a section looked to be recently rebuilt while the rest seemed like it's been neglected for decades. The outer village was largely residential, with farmsteads jutting out with little thought or planning like some particularly blocky half-halo.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "So, we'll just walk in and hope they dont shank us or something? Dont get me wrong now, should be a walk in the park unless they've got someone like Admiral Delving in there. But it's not like people like that grew on trees yeah?" Thin line between bravado and confidence, but Yvonne had enough reasons to be convinced that it's the latter. She herself was no pushover, despite the particularly embarrassing performance back in the entire underground hideout fiasco. Mattie should be at least her match, and then there's Chowder who dish out death like nobody's business. Never heard of this Veronica before, but the woman just legit ran alongside their horses and didn't even look out of breath. Definitely not a pushover either. All in all, between the four of them there's really not much a "small" group of thirty can do to slow their advance. Juuuust gotta watch out for arrows in the dark, she suppose. Yvonne can shrug off most blows, but a longbow shot to the eye wasn't something she's confident in surviving.</s> <|message|>Veronica Blackwater Location: Kindeance, 5 miles outside Fanghorn --> Pesti, western farmstead. @Remuri --- The sprint to Pesti was bracing but thankfully nothing quite hard enough tear her legs to shreds, Veronica noted, enjoying the cool breeze whistling in her ears in accompaniment to the gallop of horses under a pale moon. No longer burdened by the cart, the group was able to make significantly greater haste than before. Of course, even then, their pace was slowed by the need to not trip the horses up under unideal lighting, but otherwise, progress was far more to Veronica's preferred "speed", as it were. As Pesti dawned in the distance, the group swiftly peeled off the path towards the western outskirts and the farmstead where hopefully lied the captive Prince. Their path was lit only by moonlight, as the murk eventually cleared to her darkvision to the farmstead proper, the tents and guards she had foreseen in her vision as present as ever. First and foremost, carefully maintaining her distance, the vampire made a half-circuit of the patch of land, making a second count of the guards with her own eyes before she was satisfied. Nodding, the pale girl returned to the others and found a patch of tall grass on the fields to crouch low. Fiddling with a stick, she sketched a rough outline of the farmstead, including the barn, the tents, the guard positions, and the position of the team itself. Pursing her lips tightly in consideration, she added distances as well. Even despite the distance, she kept her voice low out of caution. "Ten guards, as foreseen, spread at even intervals of approximately 20 meters. In this lighting, approaching them unseen might be feasible, but the landscape is not to our advantage. Mostly flatlands with tall grass as the best cover." Her brow pinched in thought. "I might be able to get past unseen alone, given just how exhausted many of those guards look. If successful, I could quietly put an end to the sleeping troops before they have a chance to be an issue. The real problem is just getting past the initial line of sight," she mused aloud. Leaning back, she slung her arms over her crouched knees. "But that's certainly just one approach with plenty of room for error. If we could take out the outer ring of guards first and without notice, that would be the most ideal... The only question is how to do so silently. Arrows might be a way... but if our shots aren't instantly lethal? Well, death isn't often quiet. Besides which, a body slumping to the ground is liable to make some level of noise itself." To be honest, she was quite worried. This was it, the most critical portion of the mission. The Prince's life was in the balance, and recklessness could not be afforded. "I do have a little magic I could put to use here... if we have enough bows, I could ensure our opening salvo eliminates at least three or four of the guards before they have any chance to respond. I'm confident that I could add another two or three to that number in the timeframe before they can manage to react... Actually..." Addressing the samurai, Chounan, Veronica gestured to his bow. "How confident are you in your long-distance shots under moonlight? Will the impaired vision inconvenience you overmuch?" To Yvonne, she said, "I regret that I carry only a single bow of my own. You seem a fair hand with many weapons." To Matilda, in turn, she inquired, "How effective is your own crossbow shooting in this situation?" Veronica wasn't entirely sure herself, since most of the time, the concept of "stealth" was not one the orc seemed overmuch interested in by comparison.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] The problem: there's a bunch of armed folks that'll likely try to stop them from reaching the barn. The solution: varying, depending on how good of a fighters they were and just how much preparations they've got set up. Information was lacking, as as much as Matilda preferred just waltzing in and crushing all resistance like Yvonne chimed there may be some other ways this could be done with. "Is it possible to grab one of those sentries without the others noticing? One that is getting too sleepy for their own good? We can get some answers from him, and the hole in their watch perimeter will allow us to slip in." Matilda squinted to see the rough sketching, with great difficulty managing to get some sense of the drawing. Didn't seems much different from the scrying result reported earlier. "No need to risk taking down all of them. I cannot shoot accurately over long distance even in daytime." "Same here. I mean, I know how to handle a bow without getting a cramp somewhere unpleasant. Or throw some javelins. But dont count on me hitting the bullseye." Yvonne tapped the brand new mace on her hip, the weight a bit different than the previous one but she'll just need to smash through a battle to get used to it. Ain't the first time she had to change weapon. "I'm better at crushing things up close and personal, yeah? If I get through I can smash the guards before the rest of them even wake up."</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Addressing the samurai, Chounan, Veronica gestured to his bow. "How confident are you in your long-distance shots under moonlight? Will the impaired vision inconvenience you overmuch?" "Hmm... In daylight I could hit a target around one hundred fifty meters to two hundred meters with a light war arrows. One hundred meters with a heavy ones. With a moonlight and twenty meters range. As long I have a good vantage point. I could hit their vocal boxes with ease..." Chounan answered Veronica.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Supposedly out of any prying eyes, the group made their stop in the treelines two hundred meters away from the gate. The sound of the swift stream from the Green River could be heard behind them, a perfect mask for one of them who walked with heavy steps, though not a soul could be seen anywhere near them at that moment. If Veronica's intel was to be trusted, the fort was almost deserted, and it seemed so before their gates and battlements. Only eight could be seen patrolling atop the rampart, fulfilling their duties with bored heavy faces, so nominal for a second or two Jazdia wondered if they have arrived in the right place. But the Hunter was so sure he looked about to jump from their cover anytime now. In his answer, he added how those men must pay for the death of his brother, needless to say, Jazdia didn't find his personal motive beneficial for this mission. "We are here for scouting purposes." and she will not repeat it again. "If it is revenge you seek, be patient-" Jazdia shifted her attention to the main mission. The earpiece was still silent, and that was the first thing to worry about because now should be the time for Matilda to inform her of the first update. She wondered how they are doing right now. Chonan was impulsive and Matilda doesn't seem to be a person with patience. Had they sounded the alarm already? Jazdia patted Cedar's wide shoulder and donned her friendly attitude. If memory serves right, working with a druid is difficult, but this fella seemed more approachable. "One of my concerns is if the second party started a fight and Pesti called for reinforcement with whatever means they have. We can't let their reinforcement arrive before we do. We must do something to hinder their mobility. Master Cedar, I need you to create obstacles on the main route so their horses and carriages cannot pass. Can that be arranged?" Sure it can. He was a druid and nothing those tree huggers liked more than turning man-mad creation back to nature's embrace. "And, Master Solomon, you said you deployed one of your shadows. Care to tell me something about it?" After saying that, the elf activated her eyes and scanned for whatever waiting behind that city wall.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- The journey towards Fanghorn was swift and mostly uneventful. As it stood, both villages were in some part connected with the kidnapping of the prince, or at the very least his captivity. With the half moon lighting the way, and the cart abandoned, though safely stowed, travel was smooth. Even with the occasional cloud plunging the road into darkness, it made no difference. In less than an hour, they were at the outskirts of the village. Fencing and tilled soil began to surround the road, outlining the farmland and residences that spread out from the tall wooden walls protecting the inner village. While Solomon visited the village several times, he rarely went past the palisade, so the strength of the lord was not known to him. He ruled over the land along the river, far enough south to avoid the bridge, but still among the front line should any enemy reach this far into Kindeance. How involved Von Kruber had yet to be seen, so for now it was best to assume he put his full might into the coup. As expected, the gates to the inner villager were shut, perhaps even barred. As for the houses outside, the walls, they remained quiet and dark as their occupants slept. Perhaps not for long. Some might wake in the hours before dawn to tend to their farms, but for now, the street was theirs. Solomon stood approached Jazdia shortly after she and Cedar had their small discussion. Cedar continued towards the gate, setting up for the obstacles Jazdia requested. "My shadows. Yes. There should be five of them within the inner walls of the village. They will be the eyes and ears in the areas we cannot currently reach. If anything warranting our attention or concern, the shadow will reveal itself to you or I. I'm afraid they cannot speak in the traditional sense. However, I will understand them. Should we be separated, if they approach you, it will be a warning. It might try to communicate another way such as the way it moves or points, so be mindful if one reveals itself. Beyond scouting, and providing warning, there is not much a shadow can do. They are silent, fast, intangible, and can hide in any form of darkness seamlessly, a perfect scout." said Solomon as he looked towards the walls of the village. For now, none of his shadows had made an appearance, so that was a good sign. Or at least a sign that everything inside the village was quiet. The shadows would be swarming along the naturally occurring shade unhindered by walls, barricades, locks, or other such obstacles. While some would monitor the entrances and gates, others searched the village and keep, looking for signs of the prince, or evidence of any conspirators.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark To her surprise, the druid carried her order without much fuss. That was good. Jazdia drew her bow and activated her eyes, aiming at the general direction the bear took. Walking in all four, Cedar began to spread his seeds, or spell, or whatever there. "My shadows. Yes." said Doctor Solomon solemnly "There should be five of them within the inner walls of the village. They will be the eyes and ears in the areas we cannot currently reach. If anything warranting our attention or concern, the shadow will reveal itself to you or I. I'm afraid they cannot speak in the traditional sense. However, I will understand them. Should we be separated, if they approach you, it will be a warning." "So they are autonomous?" asked Jazdia, intrigued by the explanation, but still focused on the druid's movement. "Can we use them to warn the others? Or in case we separated even further?" "Should we be separated, if they approach you, it will be a warning. It might try to communicate another way such as the way it moves or points, so be mindful if one reveals itself. Beyond scouting, and providing warning, there is not much a shadow can do. They are silent, fast, intangible, and can hide in any form of darkness seamlessly, a perfect scout." Jazdia frowned. Not to Solomon's explanation, but to what Cedar was doing right now in front of the south gate. It was not the intended target, and there was a risk guard who could see him, which would incite unwanted attention among the populace. But fortunately, no such things happened, the bear successfully sowed his seeds at critical points, and even managed to replenish his ammunition along the way from the nearby backyard. He did all of that silently, just like a kid doing mischief. Jazdia still provided cover and monitored his movement when the bear somehow took a very peculiar route and headed straight to the forest. She wondered if the druid was sidetracked by something her eyes did not see, but that was... impossible. That Bear, where was he going? He kept going straight into the forest, through foliage and darkness, until completely out of Jazdia's enchanting sight. "What in the world..." Jazdia deactivated her eyes and then reactivate them again, scanning the woods in case of a bear came out of the treeline. A full minute passed and still no sign of him. Jazdia started to lose her cool, her mind raced, and among many things, Cedar having treacherous intent was flashed briefly, but she tried to keep the assumption under control. The only settlement nearby was Pesti, and Matilda was there. Maybe the Druid thought he should rejoin the orc captain? For...whatever reason? Jazdia faced the rest of her team and did very little to hide her dissatisfaction. "Cedar's gone. He went to the forest. Reason unknown. Maybe he will be back shortly and maybe not. We will not wait for him." "So what's the plan?" Asked Kaito. "Let's move to the edge of the forest so we can get a closer look at the wall. The first goal is to plant my arrows on that bridge. Then we will see..." Maybe Cedar would return during their approach?</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "Yvonne, we are not killing innocent people for being in the wrong place and the wrong time." Well, potentially innocent. There's still the chance of the sentry lying through his teeth, but her duty to uphold the law couldn't allow any further killing until the crime was proven. "We're due for some talking. All of you, stay out of sight and ready. I'll have a chat with this mercenary leader." Forcing the poor sentry up by the back of his tunic, Matilda clanked forward with the man in tow with no regard of being stealthy. She didn't look back, trusting her compatriots to remain just enough to be unseen by the little oblivious group playing cards under torchlight by the barn. The source of light would've cost them their darkvision, and they'll have no idea how big of a force she's bringing with her. Hopefully that'll prevent them from trying something colossally stupid. The noise of her armor caught their attention before she even appeared. The group of... five stood up, hands reaching for weapons as they stared with uncertainty into the darkness. Then she stepped into sight, the motley bunch tensing as she let go of the sentry. The poor man stumbled before looking back for a confused second, then scrambled to rejoin his friends. "I am Matilda Ironsword, servant of his highness King Fredricus of Kindeance. An important retinue of the king was recently kidnapped and our magicians are certain that he's held in this place. I demand your leader to present him or herself now." She crossed her arms, looking as impatient as she actually felt like. Meanwhile, the supposed mercenaries looked at her and each other with incongruity before one finally snapped out of it and went into what looked like a slightly fancier tent than the rest. So far, so good.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark 4:12 AM Fanghorn, Kingdom of Kindeance As they went farther to the northwest, the trees became more sparse until there was nothing but brushes and clearings. The houses of the local farmers provide them ample covering, however, be it from eyes stationed on top of the walls or several towers at the corners of the city. It did not take long for the team to reach their ideal position; a river bank with a steep side but a relatively flat shore. Jazdia nocked an arrow and measured her target. The bridge was one hundred and fifty meters away, it had four columns, and was four meters wide and thirty meters long across the Green River. It had one watch tower, which was currently empty, and no other sentries could be seen. Her forty-four-pounder bow tensed as Jazdia pulled it to its peak draw, and soon it launched her enchanted arrow with a distinctive twang. The first shot landed on the second first column from the right, embedded in the gap between the bricks. The second shot was released, and it landed not far from the first one, impaled on the part of the structure that was covered with moss. The third shot bounced off and fell to the water below. Jazdia replaced that last arrow by firing on the same gap where her first arrow was. Three should be enough. Those arrows will be ready to detonate in half hour. Jazdia climbed from that riverbank and turned on her radio. Her eyes were still activated as she began to walk around the compound. There didn't seem that many activities inside except in the inner citadel, which for some reason had magical enchantment protecting it. It was not very perfect; it had some gaps and cracks in its magical barrier, but still a nuisance nonetheless as Jazdia could barely peek inside like a half-opened curtain. However, the inner castle was built under a large mound, thus its underground section had no such protection "Their dungeon is empty, there is no princeling in there!" she stated as they arrived at the southeast part of the castle. "Huh, strange, pretty sure you will use your dungeon when you detain someone. There goes our plan to criminalize the baron for the mistreatment of royals." "His lackeys seemed to hold a bloody convention on the third floor, right above the... huh Baron's quarter? Damn this barrier! It seems overused. How did a local baron can have one of those planted in his walls while Rascade, the Capital itself had none?" "Matilda. Can you hear me? What's your status over there? We almost finished our part of the job. And that funny bear is MIA, I assume he is on the way to... regroup with you. We are waiting for the news from your side, Ma'am."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia's horse barely moved a few distances when Kaito asked. ""What do you mean in trouble? What did she say, do you have any intel on their situation? Did they run into an obvious trap based on intel too good to be true? " "She said nothing important, the usual." Jazdia pulled the reins a bit harder than usual, causing her mount to slightly recoiled in protest. She wasn't an animal lover sort, but after a gentle tap on the neck, the beast had calmed down. "From what I heard, Matilda was trying to force an entry into a building or trying to open something. She triggered a tripwire or god knows what I guess. Explosion ensued. The comms stopped working after that." Jazdia nodded at the hunter, who had expressed his intention to remain here. "Good Idea. Tell the bear that we are regrouping with Matilda and to... uh stay here until we returned. Or whatever." Seeing the doctor has already joined them, the party started their journey back to Pesti. Although time was against them, they did not force their steeds to gallop and opted for a more steady pace. They would need the horses in top condition on their way back to Fanghorn. Hopefully. Riding side by-side, Jazdia noticed the gloom on Kaito's face. "You don't seem very happy. Mind sharing it, little fox?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan had been overwatching the party from a good vantage point. He went along with Veronica as the time the pale girl seperated the party to took someone who meant for integration. A good distance behind the pale girl, he witnessed her how to fight in shadows. He was impressed. As they regroup to Matilda's party along with a taken hostage, he switched back for overwatching the whole party. When the time the explosion occurred. Assume that reinforcement will come. Chounan spoke to Veronica. "Lady Veronica. Keep an eye of Lady Yvonne and Dame Matilda. I will welcome our guests.". He jumped down from vantage point and mounted his horse and ready his katana. The incoming unorganized wave of mercenary group were welcome by himself from unexpected flank. Master of jocking gave Chounan and his horse a good maneuvery and dodging on incoming attacks. The kicks of the horse hooves is his offense and his katana is his additional defense as for deflecting both melees and range attacks against him and his horse. He enjoyed high ground advantages and he have Ki and Perfect counter during the initiation.</s> <|message|>Kaito Jazdia's comment about Kaito not looking too happy caught the fox by surprise. He was always under the impression that he was pretty decent about hiding his feelings but the elf once again cut through his mask like it wasn't even there. For a moment he just stared at his companion wondering what he should say. Even though Kaito was generally the most talkative person of the group, talking about his feelings was something he was not particularly good at. Maybe it was because he has a history of manipulating others and was afraid of having his own feelings used against him. Or was it because he did not understand what he was feeling himself. The fox turned his face towards the road again as their horses dashed forward. For a moment there was this eerie silence. He could not hide it and saying that there was nothing would surely not convince the elf. "It's just…." began the fox. "It's just that I saw this coming. I tried to talk some sense into Mathilda and you about that the Pesti info was too good to be true and most likely a trap. I understand that you want to cover all bases but it just feels like I'm being ignored and that my opinion isn't valued. That kind of frustrates me and now stuff is a mess." Kaito paused and looked at Jazdia. Wondering if he somehow sounded like he was antagonizing her or as some entitled asshole. "I'm not good at stuff like misdirection, manipulation and scheming because of my magic. It's that I am good at my magic because I understand how to misdirect, manipulate, scheme and stuff like that. I understand to a certain degree how people think and how I can use that to my advantage. Our enemy does that too. That is why they set up a trap that Mathilda would walk right into, forcing us to take our eyes off Fanghorn." The kitsune turned his eyes to the road again, watching the trees move by as they made fast progress towards Pesti. "Anyway….we should focus on the task at hand. The only intel we have is that there was an explosion. If we can't get into contact with anyone on her team we should approach Pesti really carefully. Mathilda and the other could be all dead and our enemies could have set another trap for us to walk into. It is pretty obvious that our enemy's first priority for now is to get rid of us."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Mess? No, not all. This is still within my calculation. Fred wanted to use me as a pawn, I simply did the same to his subordinate. Hurting Matilda means the Noble in charge of these lands can be held accountable, and his next move will be easier to observe. I simply prefer to have our dear captain take the brunt. Remember that she is the leader in this investigation, and was eager to go to Pesti. The decision was taken as the compromise." Jazdia's voice was as cold as the morning air, and it stayed that way when she continued. "Our enemy is trying to get rid of us? You don't say! I don't know how to say this without making you feel undervalued, or making me look confronting, but you are stating what both of us had already aware of, and yet the big question still remained; How would we deal with it? Jazdia closed her reply by giving the fox a searched look.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Yvonne had no idea when did Chowder retrieved his horse, but there he came riding it into the throng of confused mercenaries. There's just one problem though - it was not a trained warhorse. The explosion earlier must've already startled it somewhat fierce, and then it's directed toward a bunch of screaming people and pointy object. As a result? It bucked the rider off and took off into the night. That embarassing little hiccup aside, the man's skill was the real deal. He dodged, deflected, and parried with ease even against increasing number, occupying enough of them that Yvonne didn't see much trouble going in. No one's getting killed either, surprisingly. Maybe mass murder could still be avoided. Swatting a young lad's spear out of his grasp, Yvonne shoved the little obstacle aside before entering the barn. Fire had started to spread now, unnaturally so. There's likely pitch or oil involved for it to be this bad. Thankfully Matilda wasn't hard to locate, laying on her back not far off from the center. That... didn't look good. The armor had prevented the worst damage to vital parts, but some of the weaker points and the joints was savaged by shrapnel. Not to mention that she's practically next to the source of the explosion. Compared to open wounds, shockwave injuries were silent and insidious. If someone's shanked in the gut at least it's clear what's the damage was, but ain't no telling if there's internal bleeding somewhere before suddenly the victim dropped dead. "Shit. Come on, big girl. Ain't time for a dirt nap yet." Lifting the orc was out of question, but Yvonne tested the cuirass and found it still holding together just fine so she grabbed and pulled it by the back of the neck. Keeping her stance low, the mercenary coughed as she moved as fast as she could out of the burning building. There were other bodies in there. Possibly other survivors, too. But she's not in any position to play the hero. One step after the other. Soon enough the burnt acrid air was replaced with cool night wind, and that's one danger out of. Still not all safe, though. Mercs were grouping up and organizing. Some of them stood in her way, and Yvonne's still too close to the burning barn for comfort. She reeeeally didn't feel like talking right now. Her free hand twitched closer to the mace's handle. Can she kill them? Let's kill them, yeah? Not far away was a group trying to corner Chowder. Non-lethal takedown was good and all, but proven to be quite difficult to do when they're covering for each other. It'll take some time to get it resolved... or an intervention from someone else.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito looked at his boss first with a bit of confusion and then started to smile. Jazdia had basically thrown the Orc under the bus. For someone dedicated to law, order and justice she sure had a more practical, darker side. A trait that the fox certainly appreciated. The elf's little scheme certainly had made his day. " Well played" For a moment the kitsune thought about the situation. So far their party had been reacting to the inputs of the enemy. If it was up to Kaito they should search for ways to gain the initiative and force them to react to their moves. When the other forces your hand, you're more likely to make mistakes. "hmm, I doubt we're gonna find the prince in Pesti. It makes no sense to place him on top of some bomb. Considering who went there my guess is we're gonna find a pile of corpses. If we're lucky Chounan and Yvonne might have kept someone alive to question. But if I was our enemy, I would not place anyone at a trap who holds valuable information on the op I'm running. We'll have to see if there is anything useful to get from Pesti" The fox paused a bit before he continued. "Anyway, we should extract our resources and hope they are in decent shape after triggering the trap. If the prince is really in Fanghorn they have two options; stay put in a well defended position or relocate to somewhere else. They will be more vulnerable on the road than in the castle. So I think it is safe to assume that they will stay put. Especially if their trap did not take out a good chunk of the pursuers. It's not like we can lay siege to the place with just 8 people." "So we either need to come up with a way to get into the castle or a way to force them to leave and hit them on the road. Like torching the place down to the ground or having the king send an army. Would he make a move now that his favorite orc got blown up?</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Even if I am right, it is still fifty-fifty odds. My initial plan was to scout Fanghorn and got a good look if the Prince was there. Then ride back to Rascade to inform Fred and put him in a situation that he can't refuse to send an army. That option is still viable, but The Enemy's curtains made it a lot more complicated." The cold air morning air caused Jazdia to shudder occasionally. "The reason why we retreated back to Pesti is for our own safety too. Now the north bridge is closed there would be no easy way for us to escape had Matilda and her team got overrun by the enemies. We can't let ourselves be trapped between hammer and anvil." "We can lure the enemy out a lot easier if only Fred is actively doing his part and not cowering under the pretense of secrecy." Jazdia groaned, which seemed to be the only expression she showed after a long while. Indeed they should asses their 'resources' as Kaito put it, but broken comms were unexpected. She decelerated her horse and turned to Solomon. "What's the status of your shadow in Pesti? And was that...a Leshen?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Mess? No, not all. This is still within my calculation. Fred wanted to use me as a pawn, I simply did the same to his subordinate. Hurting Matilda means the Noble in charge of these lands can be held accountable, and his next move will be easier to observe. I simply prefer to have our dear captain take the brunt. Remember that she is the leader in this investigation, and was eager to go to Pesti. The decision was taken as the compromise." Jazdia's voice was as cold as the morning air, and it stayed that way when she continued. "Our enemy is trying to get rid of us? You don't say! I don't know how to say this without making you feel undervalued, or making me look confronting, but you are stating what both of us had already aware of, and yet the big question still remained; How would we deal with it? Jazdia closed her reply by giving the fox a searched look.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Yvonne had no idea when did Chowder retrieved his horse, but there he came riding it into the throng of confused mercenaries. There's just one problem though - it was not a trained warhorse. The explosion earlier must've already startled it somewhat fierce, and then it's directed toward a bunch of screaming people and pointy object. As a result? It bucked the rider off and took off into the night. That embarassing little hiccup aside, the man's skill was the real deal. He dodged, deflected, and parried with ease even against increasing number, occupying enough of them that Yvonne didn't see much trouble going in. No one's getting killed either, surprisingly. Maybe mass murder could still be avoided. Swatting a young lad's spear out of his grasp, Yvonne shoved the little obstacle aside before entering the barn. Fire had started to spread now, unnaturally so. There's likely pitch or oil involved for it to be this bad. Thankfully Matilda wasn't hard to locate, laying on her back not far off from the center. That... didn't look good. The armor had prevented the worst damage to vital parts, but some of the weaker points and the joints was savaged by shrapnel. Not to mention that she's practically next to the source of the explosion. Compared to open wounds, shockwave injuries were silent and insidious. If someone's shanked in the gut at least it's clear what's the damage was, but ain't no telling if there's internal bleeding somewhere before suddenly the victim dropped dead. "Shit. Come on, big girl. Ain't time for a dirt nap yet." Lifting the orc was out of question, but Yvonne tested the cuirass and found it still holding together just fine so she grabbed and pulled it by the back of the neck. Keeping her stance low, the mercenary coughed as she moved as fast as she could out of the burning building. There were other bodies in there. Possibly other survivors, too. But she's not in any position to play the hero. One step after the other. Soon enough the burnt acrid air was replaced with cool night wind, and that's one danger out of. Still not all safe, though. Mercs were grouping up and organizing. Some of them stood in her way, and Yvonne's still too close to the burning barn for comfort. She reeeeally didn't feel like talking right now. Her free hand twitched closer to the mace's handle. Can she kill them? Let's kill them, yeah? Not far away was a group trying to corner Chowder. Non-lethal takedown was good and all, but proven to be quite difficult to do when they're covering for each other. It'll take some time to get it resolved... or an intervention from someone else.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito looked at his boss first with a bit of confusion and then started to smile. Jazdia had basically thrown the Orc under the bus. For someone dedicated to law, order and justice she sure had a more practical, darker side. A trait that the fox certainly appreciated. The elf's little scheme certainly had made his day. " Well played" For a moment the kitsune thought about the situation. So far their party had been reacting to the inputs of the enemy. If it was up to Kaito they should search for ways to gain the initiative and force them to react to their moves. When the other forces your hand, you're more likely to make mistakes. "hmm, I doubt we're gonna find the prince in Pesti. It makes no sense to place him on top of some bomb. Considering who went there my guess is we're gonna find a pile of corpses. If we're lucky Chounan and Yvonne might have kept someone alive to question. But if I was our enemy, I would not place anyone at a trap who holds valuable information on the op I'm running. We'll have to see if there is anything useful to get from Pesti" The fox paused a bit before he continued. "Anyway, we should extract our resources and hope they are in decent shape after triggering the trap. If the prince is really in Fanghorn they have two options; stay put in a well defended position or relocate to somewhere else. They will be more vulnerable on the road than in the castle. So I think it is safe to assume that they will stay put. Especially if their trap did not take out a good chunk of the pursuers. It's not like we can lay siege to the place with just 8 people." "So we either need to come up with a way to get into the castle or a way to force them to leave and hit them on the road. Like torching the place down to the ground or having the king send an army. Would he make a move now that his favorite orc got blown up?</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Even if I am right, it is still fifty-fifty odds. My initial plan was to scout Fanghorn and got a good look if the Prince was there. Then ride back to Rascade to inform Fred and put him in a situation that he can't refuse to send an army. That option is still viable, but The Enemy's curtains made it a lot more complicated." The cold air morning air caused Jazdia to shudder occasionally. "The reason why we retreated back to Pesti is for our own safety too. Now the north bridge is closed there would be no easy way for us to escape had Matilda and her team got overrun by the enemies. We can't let ourselves be trapped between hammer and anvil." "We can lure the enemy out a lot easier if only Fred is actively doing his part and not cowering under the pretense of secrecy." Jazdia groaned, which seemed to be the only expression she showed after a long while. Indeed they should asses their 'resources' as Kaito put it, but broken comms were unexpected. She decelerated her horse and turned to Solomon. "What's the status of your shadow in Pesti? And was that...a Leshen?"</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn outskirts, Kindeance --- Solomon rode close to the others as they made steady speed towards Pesti. Unfortunately, the ride would not be as fast to give the horses ample energy to pace without racing themselves to exhaustion. Likely, whatever skirmish Matilda and her team encountered would have ended by the time they arrive in favor of either side. Still, the possibility existed. Either way, the force had to regroup. "The protections of the fort are beyond what one would reasonably expect." said Solomon at the end of the conversation between Jazdia and Kaito. "I agree with jazdia's assessment. Even had Pesti not been a trap, regrouping would have still been an appropriate decision. Since this new development, may only Fanghorn be trapped." The image of Fanghorn was beginning to fall out of view as the horses. It would be several more minutes before Pesti would show over the horizon. Jazdia moved her horse so now that she and Solomon were riding next to each other. She inquired about the shadows of Pesti, and of August. Solomon wasn't aware she even knew he called upon him. Though given how she was able to see through the very walls of Fanghorn, it was not a surprise. "I cannot say for sure what the shadows are doing at Pesti. While my connection to them lets me command them, I do not have full vision of their endeavors. That said, I do know that they all still exist, and are still roaming about. I call feel that much." Solomon paused as the horse created space between him and Jazdia. It decided that it would rather skirt around some debris along their path than attempt to jump over it. After the short distraction, Solomon resumed. "As for the leshen as you say, he is not such. I can see why you would confuse them. No, that was a siabrae. Undead of the forest, and an unlikely being to have formed. His name is August Fernby. Like most undead, he had a normal life prior to his death. He loved the forest, and he died protecting it. The circumstances of which are tragic. I recommend you speak with him if you want to know more. My purpose for calling upon him as I did was to finish what Cedar started. Like Cedar, he is a druid, able to command the wilderness. Once August is finished with what was set, he will join us in Pesti. If further assistance is needed, then he can be of more tangible aid, unlike the shadows."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Resurrected druid huh?" asked Jazdia with a raised eyebrow. Like what Cedar had currently demonstrated, Druids were difficult folks to deal with, and she reckon the difficulty would be at least twofold with an undead druid. But Solomon assured her of his purpose and seemed confident that this 'siabre' would be more approachable and cooperative than the first impression about him suggested. "Yeah, I think I can see the trace of Cedar's works," she said, recalling gleaming sands that had been sowed on some parts of the road. She activated her eyes again and had a quick scan toward the treelines on both sides of the road "Pretty sure I didn't ask him to disable the entire road, and I can't see him anywhere nearby." Without lowering the speed of her horse, Jazdia reached her thermos, pulled the cap, and drank her already-cold tea without bothering to reheat it. "Let us hope August can finish his task quickly. We might need all extra hands we can get."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "So it is either they are not really aware of what happened in Pesti, or simply trying to keep us out of their city..." There was a powerful mage warding the entire place. That explained the curtain and anti-scrying magic deployed in Fanghorn. Once again the unconventional agent had proven his worth. Unlike Matilda and-- When Jazdia busied herself contemplating a certain orc captain, she heard a ping on her communication device. Huh, it seemed the commpass was not as damaged as she had imagined. "Yes, come in!" At first, it was a distorted voice akin to a dying chipmunk. "Is this-- yiikk working? Hello? ---- wiikkk yiikkkkHello? ----" "I cannot hear you. Grip the device tightly then speak." Oh finally! Whoever designed this need to get a spanking, I swear." Oh, she would be more than happy to deliver the feedback on this obsolete piece of junk to Old Man Anderson himself just for the fun of it. But that could wait. "Cut the chatter, Miss Yvonne. What's happening over there?" "Short version, it all went to shit. I think Matilda got a face-full of explosives, she's got shrapnel all over." "Is she dead? Currently unconscious again, but she got some scrying orders out to missus Verny here. Supposedly prince's in Fanghorn. For sure this time. Small fort on a hill, there's stone wall, village attached next to it, in view of the river yeah? He's in the garret up there. "The description matches, yes. What to do now, boss?" "First is to make sure you are clear to move out from Pesti. How is the situation over there? How many of them you are dealing with, and who are they? The prince can wait. We are currently on our way to provide you with some assistance."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Uncanning Matilda was surprisingly easier than expected. Some of the screws were tightened beyond normal means to remove, but a bit of extra juice and it twisted out just fine. Then it's a matter of removing the plates off the orc. Some part didn't look pretty of course, and by that Yvonne meant the mounted crossbow, but eh. Mattie will not have any problem getting replacement. "Kindean mercenaries, they're paid to guard the mysterious cargo by a shell company. Their leader was caught in the explosion, and unfortunately he didn't have plate armor to protect himself. We scattered the rest of the company, about twenty or so. Amateurs, got no armor and a few weapons. Dont think they'll rally but who knows, I'd rather not stick around." Now that their situation was reversed, it's not impossible for a strike from the dark to inflict damage in a moment of carelessness. Even with Verny's darksight. "Say, if you're coming here maybe get the cart we hid earlier? Ain't no way to move Mattie on a horse. Ah, would be great if our bear can leg it faster too."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Meanwhile in Rasacade, on the same frigid dawn, Fredrucus stood at his palace's highest section, watching his city spring to life. Though there was a lockdown and a threat of war, people didn't seem troubled by it. Shops were open, with or without customers, and streets, though somewhat sparse, were still populated by shoppers and common citizens alike. Kindean people were hard workers and his father's decision to reform the country was a no-brainer move. His father, King Jonas was a very strict and paranoid man. Though a visionary leader, he trusted nobody unless there was a stake to keep his allies stayed in line. There was no occasion for him to go without deploying a full platoon on his itinerary and there was some occasion when those who breached the security code got mercilessly executed. At one point in his life, Fredricus believed it was due to the rough upbringing caused by his warmongering grandfather who didn't take the defeat of Kindence after a Ten Years war very well, and now at some point he still did. The alliance between the royal family and noble clans was built on fragile associations. It was a legacy from his father, but he did not blame him. Jonas was always a role father and leader to him, but Fred had no desire to be the copy of his predecessors. Instead of brandishing fear and intimidation, he chose to be practical and understanding. In exchange for their loyalty, he distributed power to those clans. A sign of trust, and promoting them to take their part to make this country prosper. It worked for so many years and to think someone would break this status quo had made him enraged. Even more so when his spy reported that one of the Delving whelps was caught sneaking from his tomb. He had to take refuge in the highest pinnacle of his castle to cool his head off. The scheme their orchestrated was not that surprising, but they did the extra mile to desecrate his father's resting place as well. Right in the most critical times. Only animals are capable of doing such preposterous things. The noise of heavy climbing steps causes Fred to draw his sword and spin around. He was a king, but make no mistake, the aging monarch was still capable of personally lopping off a traitor's head from their treacherous shoulder. "Your highness..." Despite having a blade pointed at him, his chamberlain astutely knelt. For someone who just experienced a rude awakening that highlighted his vulnerability, it did ease Fredricus' nerve a bit. "... I bring news from Squire Anderson, they have finished the search on the tunnels, and found the body of the Black Serpent Guild Master Gerrald, as his highness requested." Fredricus sheathed his sword. "What about Henri?" "They didn't find him." "So what the heck did they find? What about the weapons?" "Indeed His Highness, the soldiers found the weapon stash. It says the amount was enough to arm at least two and a half thousand people. The place seemed to have been abandoned just recently." "Seemed just recently?" the king glared tensely. So Jazdia's report was true. there was a potential rebellion hiding under his feet. Nearly losing a grip on his trademark calmness, Fredricus blared. "Who dares to do that?" "I beg your pardon, His Highness. I do not now, simply relayed what the squire said." "And what are the fates of those contrabands?" "The royal guards are still transporting the crates as we speak." The monarch sighed. Clearly, there was no way Delving could plan all of this by themselves. He must have supporters, other nobles, and clans to cover their backs. It felt like everyone was turning against him and he could no longer differentiate between his own allies. Could he trust Matilda? Where was his son? Was there anyone in this country that doesn't want him dead? Could he even trust his own chamberlain? "The body of the aforementioned individual had been secured by Madam Antigne and her team, His highness." the chamberlain reported, again his timing could not be any better. at least it was something else Fred could divert his attention to. If chance allows, he would go down to the wizard's laboratory right now and commended Antigone to use whatever spell to make the dead sing. But right now he doesn't want to act brash. He could imagine how those pesky nobles would mock him behind his back for using testimony from a talking corpse as sole evidence-- no, he will need another piece to connect the dots, and he expected his hirelings to bring him just that. "Very Good. Summon the Squire at ten o'clock. I want to hear the full report from him. Dismissed!" "As you wish, my liege."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Local mercenaries? Who hired them? And for what purpose?" Jazdia soon realized that half of her message was lost in transmission, probably colliding and overpowered by Yvonne's incoming message. "Say, if you're coming here maybe get the cart we hid earlier? Ain't no way to move Mattie on a horse. Ah, would be great if our bear can leg it faster too." "The bear is not with us. It would take some time to refit the cart with one of our horses. I can do that for you, but if you want to depart quickly, I suggest you look for another transport in that village. Hang tight, we will be there for one hour! It seemed the diplomatic approach is no longer viable from your end. You are free to defend yourself, but keep the body count at a minimum, yeah? Do you still want me to bring the cart or not?"</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito and the others continued their way towards Pesti. What started as a rescue mission for the prince seemed to evolve into a rescue mission of the other teammates. But that is kinda the shit that happens when you walk into an obvious trap. From what the fox could hear of Jazdia's conversation, it sounded like a shit show going down at Pesti. The kitsune turned his head once more towards their team leader. ""Any relevant information coming down the line about what we can expect when we arrive?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Unnamed local mercenary," The connection was so bad whatever was said from Yvonne's side was still on hold, so she turned to Kaito instead. "Rings any bell? I believe they were not part of Miss Noble's company. Their leader got injured by the explosion, so the situation is a complete mess over there. A misunderstanding I reckon, and considering nobody was trying to defuse the situation, we should at least expect pitchforks and torches. Classic!" She waited for a moment. Still no reply from Yvonne yet. "Say, I am wondering if Matilda brought an important trinket with her, something that indicates her service in the small circle around the king himself. I am sure the investigation would be a lot easier if that was the case."</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Kaito For a moment Kaito watched how the bear did his magic. It was certainly nice to have a magical healer on site. Even though Cedar was a bit naive, he was at least a decent fellow with a hard to understand accent. Not that it mattered much. The kitsune could understand it well enough. "No clue what you have been up to all night but good to have you back Cedar. I'm pretty sure we're gonna need your skills some more in the coming days." The fox turned towards the elf as she explained the course of action. Just knocking on the door and asking for hospitality sounded like a much better plan than trying to storm the walls. It was certainly something that was right up the fox's alley. They had to get inside Fanghorn castle in order to verify that the boy was there and with everything that had happened so far, knocking on the door seemed like the only option left. "Sounds like we got ourselves a plan here. Lets do it!"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When the servant returned to the tower to inform his master, Jazdia let out a heavy sigh. Yeah, she knew how she looked like, entering their domain like nobody's business, inordinately flinging Fred's seal to gain entry, all while being a complete nobody in this realm's geopolitical chart. And likewise, except for the bare-bones information about his terrible financial acumen, she knew nothing about this Baron. Kindeance had been a conflict-free country for a century, and in such a peaceful state, the profiles of its dignitaries were often overlooked save for those at the top. That was one of the reasons why Jazdia thought it would be a great idea to invest in their hospitality business. Now such Tacid assessment had been turned upside down, naturally. Who would be willing to spend their time in a hotel located in a country where its King was assassinated on his doorstep and its prince kidnapped? Maintaining her bearing, it would be best to just get on with the flow. But before they meet this Baron, Jazdia activated her eyes and scanned her surroundings. Should have done this the moment they walked into this place, but that would betray the neutral, yet still hospitable reception. The tower was still covered with a magical curtain, but the gap was more apparent here compared to when she viewed it from the faraway treelines. She will deal with it later, after she was done with nearby houses, unknown alleys, and the high rampart behind her. What did she see?</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The fort was a lonesome structure on top of the hill. Its surrounding was empty and open, save for a well-populated stable off to one side. It had a number of horses in there... quite a lot of horses, in fact, one particular specimen was at least two sizes larger than the rest and built so muscularly one may suspect that it's used to a diet of meat. The stone rampart was underpopulated, with only one sentry every twenty-something meter and they seems to be paying more attention to the bramble removal team than their surroundings. The walls itself was exactly how it looked, stone with some copper veins that diffused magic, yet from this close it's possible to peer through the gaps to view the people making slow progress through the overgrowth. The same could be said about the castle wall. While the crack was at southeast side, putting it out of direct line of sight for now, there's sufficient gaps to get some idea of what's going on inside. The previously concealed first floor looked to be a great hall, currently populated by one person sweeping the floor slowly. A few people was talking in a room on the second floor, including the guard that went to deliver their report. One of them went to the window to presumably peer down on the party, a glimpse of wrinkled skin and grey hair revealed itself for a few seconds before the people dispersed. Then it's a flurry of activity. Servants came down to the first floor, preparing various tables and refreshment. The third floor had less people than earlier in the day, presumably a portion was out dealing with the brambles. They seemed to be mostly unmoving at the moment, as if resting... or waiting for something. Beside a section of the floor that seems to be the kitchen, of course. That part was busy as beehive, as evident of the faint smoke of cooking fire that soon started to emerge from the nearest chimney.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] There was a small commotion when the guard at the fort's gate asked for the party to surrender their weapons, of which Matilda flat out refused. The poor man seemed at lost, caught between a rock and a hard space until the baron himself came to bail him out. "No need for such formality!" He said. "The king's own herald wouldn't wish us any harm now, would they?" Baron Otto was a middle-aged man that didn't age quite that well, already more white than black on a head that seemed to be permanently stooping forward. He wore a formal outfit that might've been a tailor-fit a few years back but now pressed tightly into his flesh, the buttons fighting for their life to keep him modest. Yet despite all that he remained jovial at a glance, like a harmless neighborhood uncle that was more than eager to share a story or two. "My apologies for the lacking reception dear heralds, but your visit was on a short notice!" He chuckled nervously, showing the way to a long table with a dozen seats arranged around it. "Please, take a seat! You must've rode through the night, I'm sure you wont mind a modest breakfast?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia formally smiled back at him, before shifting at Matilda with nudging glance. "I am sure madam guard captain would appreciate that. Though, our initial intention was to request a service from your physician so our Captain will be treated with more than just first aid." The Baron gasped. "By the Gods, how did the good dame received such injuries? I'll have the village doctor summoned at once, worry not. There's a room available-" "That will not be necessary." the orc paladin said bluntly. "We do what we came here for." "Ah, come on capt', there is no harm in it." Jazdia turned to the Baron again, who now smiling nervously. His reaction to Matilda's injury was pathetic to the point she wondered if the old coot knew how obvious it was. The elf however wanted to prolong this tango and subtly dismissed Matilda's objection. "Appreciate it, Baron... I am sure our captain can enjoy some breakfast while she waits for your personal doctor." Steadily, in a way that involves hidden carefulness yet masked with deliberate politeness, Jazdia walked inside the room, followed by the others. Some creaking could be heard when the half-bear druid walked past her toward his own seat. The faint glow in her eyes activated, and in the effort to search for a trapdoor or other nefarious contraptions, she found a very ordinary cellar, below it was an empty dungeon. "Well, good luck finding a chair for you, Mr. Cedar." she quipped before their host could notice her intense stare toward his basement. The Baron entertained them at a long table in the middle of the room where he sat at the right end. As he clapped his hand, several servants came from the door at the north side of the room, bringing trays of food and drinks. A very deadpan yet courteous servant handed Jazdia a pipping-hot oatmeal porridge with blueberry and apple topping, while the others were to help themselves with various loaves of bread, soup, and meats. Pretty wholesome indeed.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar eyed the baron cautiously, and waited for the man to actually take a bite before even permitting himself the very idea of taking any of the food. If there were to be a torture special made for a being such as he, this would be among the top contenders. A powerful instinct to lay claim to the entire table and eat like a beast until he could no longer swallow (then continue trying to eat anyway, should any food still be present) was clawing and howling in the back of his psyche like a rabid dog, while the dignified and human part of him struggled and fought to retain composure and control. Remaining quiet and dignant in posture and poise amidst this assault on his senses was pure existential agony. He doubted his companions truly realized the degree to which his self-control was being tested by this exchange. Had this truly been a genuinely friendly invitation to dinner, from a truly trusted friend, he would have been at ease, and indulged in a way only a true and real friend would have understood, but that was not what this was. This was a fattened hog placed over a vicious trap, hungry and eager to ensnare... or at least, had every potential to be. The cruel memory of being trapped in the Rascade dungeon was about the only mental defense he could bring to bear against this most heinous crime of civility. He did his best to not shake, and discretely swallowed the drool that was threatening to baptize his face if not attended to. 'For fuck's sake, don't drag this out!' He cursed inwardly at his companions. They were likely completely oblivious to the thin vaneer of composure that was holding back the flood...</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Well, the baron's eating. Didn't seems like he cared which plate he grabbed from either. Not fully reassuring, but it's a start. Yvonne, who out of complete total and utter coincidence (yeah right) sat the closest to the rotund man, casually reached over for bread from the same basket. The motion was a bit awkward since it's not exactly in an arm's reach, but who cares - if anyone complain at all she'll shoot it down. It was a damn good bread, actually. No wonder the baron grew so fat if he's eating like this every single day. Now, hmm. Maybe an apple. Surely there's no way to poison fruits? She just started peeling it on the spot and bite into the flesh. Nice and crisp, juicy, with the right amount of sourness. And hopefully not poisoned. Surely the man didn't employ some sort of nefarious witch capable of poisoning an apple? That would be too much of a fairytale.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark - When the baron started eating, so too Jazdia started scooping her oatmeal. Not because of suspicion, but genuinely due to respecting the host himself. It was not proper table manners for a guest to eat before the host started digging. As for the concern regarding poisoned food, she would know it on the first bite, and so far nothing seemed out of ordinary, being an elf and food connoisseur herself, she had great confidence in detecting and avoiding that kind of old-fashioned assassination. The Rosenving daughter was eating as well, probably having a similar mindset. Jazdia herself was already on her third scoop and washed it down with some milk. "Nice place." Said Jazdia, glancing at the corners, and dusty furniture, and ceiling before turning to the host. "Very vintage yet a rare style nowadays... I always have things for unique decorations, you see. I own a restaurant and our patrons like it when we change the decor that matches the season. And you have a great cook too."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Indeed! Being a bit far from the capital is no excuse to not keep up a good appearance, is it? I'll make sure the cooks get their commendation, they've done great job today." Baron Otto seemed to be eating slowly, yet the food just... disappeared into his gullet. Buttered bread, vanished in seconds. Scrambled egg, it took him longer to sprinkle the cheese than it took him to inhale it all. A few bacon and sausage followed, barely two chew between them. All without breaching decorum or looking the slightest bit distracted - it's like the man had perfected eating as an art. He took a sip from his cup before continuing the conversation. "I believe I hadn't caught your name, miss?"</s> <|message|>Kaito Noticing how the baron followed by Jazdia started to eat without dying, Kaito figured that the food should be at least safe enough to not die instantly and grabbed a piece of bread as well. It was surprisingly tasty and the fox quickly grabbed another bite. When finished chewing it all down, he turned his attention towards the baron again. "We knights tend to talk a lot in between all the training and missions we do. So news and stories kind of travel fast that way." The kitsune paused a bit as the elf took the word. Fitting that she started about the food and the furniture. Baron Von Kruber's hall was indeed rather retro. "I've heard many good tales about Sir Caspar. I'm sure he will be a great tutor for your son. It must be lonely with the baroness and your boys visiting an acquaintance. Do you get many visitors at your castle?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Considering that Jazdia herself was a guest in Kindeance, she hoped that it would be Matilda who introduced her. The orc captain unsurprisingly did not interested. "Ah, where are my manners?" smiling, Jazdia put down the utensil and placed her palm on her chest. "The name is Jazdia Crystalspark. I am Fred's-- I mean his Highness Fredricus's long-time acquaintance. Currently a citizen of Helvetia, and a restaurateur by trade. On my right side is Miss Yvonne from Rosenving Clan, our mutual acquaintance Madame Matilda, next to her was Doctor Solomon, and our woodland guide, Master Cedar." Jazdia looked at Kaito and reassured herself. "And last but not least, Sir Jurgen Von Drexel whom you had the pleasure of exchanging pleasantries with."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "I'm sure the knights have a strong bond with each other! My youngest is always fascinated by it." Empty plates was taken away and replaced, the food flowed as if the baron had no worry about possible excess. None of the servants seemed bothered by it either. "I get visitors all the time, yes. Not as often as an estate closer in the capital would be, but my guest rooms are seldom empty for long. There's a traveling wizard at this very moment, in fact. Mister Aster have an eccentric streak, but he offered some service in exchange of hospitality. He would've joined us here if a saboteur didn't ruin the road, but I'm sure he'll be back any time now." Perception check: Faint whispers echoed at the edge of one's hearings, easily masked by conversation and ambient noise of various utensils. The source was impossible to pinpoint, and should one try to focus on it the voices seemed to entirely fade. Please make a response. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss Crystalspark!" Otto caught the slight correction, and wondered what relationship the king had with this elf. The knight-captain didn't look fazed by the supposed faux pass either, how curious. "And everyone else as well! My door is always open, should you be in the area for a... less official capacity in the future."</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's ears twitched at the unusual sound, and his eyes went wide for a split second as it cascaded across the taught drum skin of his consciousness. Far from being alarming, it was actually a welcome diversion from the slowly closing trap that he found himself in: if he failed to take any of the food, it may anger their host. If he took some of the food, his composure and self control could break. (He was an avid practitioner of 'avoidance' based self-control. If you dont put yourself in the situation where something will tempt you, you wont be tempted, and you wont succumb. It's arguably the single best reason he did NOT have any bastard bear cubs on wild mothers back home... If he increased the temptation, the risk that he would break would only increase, possibly beyond his ability to stop, and that frightened him). If he took food and didn't eat it, his host would surely notice. There was no winning move, and the feeling of being caged was palpable for him. The mysterious noise was a very welcome diversion from the trap, perhaps, even a way out if he played it right. Very carefully, he held his empty plate out for one of the servants, and motioned for them to please fill it, muttering under his breath in a low tone for only that one server, that the serving utensils were too small for his hands. At least with some of the food served, he could sidestep an angered host. He trained his full attention on the sound, and swallowed hard once more, banishing the salivary flood his body was trying to drown him with. If he could keep that blessed distraction in his ears, then discretely call attention... he might continue to overpower the intense, visceral urge to bury his head in his plate, and escape the trap. He trained his ears harder, tuning out the Baron... only to be met with suspicious silence. "Di'd anuh'buddy else jus' hear fertive whisperin', or were it jus' me?" He ventured aloud, taking the risk of sending drool everywhere after a fresh swallow. He hated having a way out dangled in front of him, then snatched away just as quickly. Now he was forced to try conversation as a distraction, and risk baptizing the table. There were certain real and unavoidable reasons you did not invite bears to sit at the table, and expect them to obey table manners...</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "The pleasure is mine. Sir Von Kruber." Though smiling, Jazdia's violet eyes watchfully fixed on the Baron. The bowl had been set aside, almost empty, with its utensil perched nicely atop it. She heard the whisper alright, but ignored it. This place was still a madhouse no matter how friendly the reception was, and as long as a such state remained maintained, she had no desire to be the one who break the facade. "It was just you, Master Cedar." the elf spared a moment of her attention to the bear-man and shrugged. "Interesting you mentioned something about guess." she continued, reaching for the napkin to wipe her lips and palm. Despite the use, the piece of cloth remained folded in a cone shape fold, but now had its pointy end directed at the Baron. "I will be more upfront with you. We are here for one of your guests who arrived here six, or seven days ago. Important person-- so obviously he had several escorts with him, keeping him safe, or perhaps they were with him to prevent him from taking another path?" The elf leaned on her chair, still seizing the nobleman with her piercing glance. "Blonde. Blue eyes. Roughly in his mid-teen. Do you still remember this particular guess?"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Whispers?" The baron's brows raised before scrunching together, trying to figure out what's going on there. He... couldn't figure it out. It's vague enough that he felt like it's an illusion born of his own mind. Well, whatever. He didn't know what Asevor's planning so he'll just go with the flow. "I'm not really sure. I couldn't tell if I'm actually hearing something or my mind made it up after you said so." He shrugged, returning to the conversation at hand as Sir Jurgen insisted strongly to. "I..." For a moment there Otto's brain traitorously whispered for him to tell the truth. Then self-preservation kicked in and he returned to his usual gear, cursing at how deceptive one's own mind could be. "I'm afraid I hadn't got another guest aside from Mister Aster recently. That was very specific details though? Where did you get the information?" Right at that moment, the whispers seemed to abandon all pretense as it intensified. As if leading a prey by the nose before springing an ambush, those who intently listened was assaulted with a cacophony before a strong wave of drowsiness washed over them. Solomon and Veronica, being undead, was immune to the effect. Jazdia and Matilda both didn't even paid it any attention and only heard something akin to a low-volume scream before it abruptly cut off, as paradoxical as it was. The baron's head listed off to the side, out like a particularly thick log. Chounan, Yvonne, and Reinhold almost simultaneously faceplanted on their plate, no different than the baron himself. The sight repeated all over the room, crash and clang of cutleries and whatnot echoing as most of the servants also seemed to be knocked right out. A creak and dull thud marked the exit closing, followed by a telltale heavy clicking of the locking mechanism. Meanwhile, Jazdia's piercing gaze would spot a large movement as the men on the third floor marched down the stairs, with one particularly large specimen bounding his way down much faster than the methodical march of the rest of the group. A lone man in the second floor carefully closed a wooden box, the whispers seemingly ceased at the exact moment the lid went shut. Then he strolled to the stairs, behind the large man but ahead of the soldiers. So much for a peaceful breakfast, eh? Perhaps the sleepyheads can be shaken awake before they missed the party.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" The bear's head swam, shapes distorted, and the whispers became a deafening cacophony from everywhere and nowhere at once. Mere moments later, he awoke with a start face-down in the fancy oatmeal he had been served. Lightly salted with butter and honey, with crunchy streusel and black currant jam on top. It had invaded his mouth and nostrils, and had his entire face coated up to his ears, where he had fallen in face first. 500lbs of bear, fallen in, face first. The table setting was in shambles where the cereal had slopped over the sides from the sudden ursine addition, and plates and cutlery had gone airborne after being catapulted by his left arm slamming down limp on the table beside it. A section of wall behind bore the remains of a platter of over-easy eggs, their yellow yolks oozing down the plastered edifice, while the nearby tray of thick cut bacon was completely unharmed. "GUH! NO NONONONO!" Bellowed the bear amid bubbles and a spray of oatmeal, as he fumbled blindly on the table for something to wash the offensive comestibles from his maw and visage. Blindly, he grabbed a ewer at random, and poured the contents, before roaring louder, and much more bear like, as a bright red fruit punch doused him, staining his face bright pink and leaving a terrible mess. "Guhaaa! NOOOO I' BURNS!" [Roar] He quickly stood away from the table in a blind stumble, sending the bench backward with a loud scrape, and the table forward with a jostle andvratyle of plates and glasses. He repeated the desperate, blind clamor at the table, this time successfully obtaining the serving ewer full of water, then vigorously and grotesquely washing his face and mouth out in the poured stream, before ending with a disgustingly strong exhalation through his nostrils that sent trapped oatmeal out in a viscous spray, followed abruptly by a vigorous headshake that sent saliva chasing it afterward in the air. The horrible spectacle ended just as abruptly, leaving a snot nosed bear with red eyes and stained facial fur boggling and trying hard to remember what the hell had just happened. Blinking behind very irritated eyes that had just moments before been subjected to a wash with what smelled and tasted like elderberry wine, he examined the toom. The elf woman was looking at him in stark horror, while the sedate doctor solomon merely wiped strewn spittle from the side of his forehead with an amused smirk. Veronica's eyes were glittering black pits, in a stony marble face, festooned with what was probably once oatmeal. He looked around the table quickly, noting several others face down on their plates. 'So it werent just me' he mused to himself, while still fighting back the panic of near drowning, and resuming the visceral battle of will to avoid returning face down onto the breakfast table. "Wadda hells jus' happen!?" he bellowed. "I's been tryin' ta FUGGIN AVOID goin's all face-daown in muh damn dinner, an sum sunsabitch goes an' plunks me innit anuhways!? I'll KEEL im! ... ... I gots it up muh damn nose!" "We noticed." Veronica's cold deadpan tone could have shattered every goblet at the table.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia was so damned sure the food wasn't spiked she could literally bring it to her restaurant and it would pass quality control by Anderson himself. So what gives? Either the Baron knew their MOs and deliberately set up the serving. She looked up, the danger was closing in, but as her sight descended back to the current room he saw a wizard incanting some spell from a wooden box on the second floor. So either spiked or the place was filled with paralyzing hexes. The big guy started to collapse, but then struggle to shake it off, causing a ruckus on the table and even more when he bellowed before attempting to wash off the mess from his muzzle, which caused even more clamor. At this point, between the host and the guest, whoever violated the sacred hospitality was no longer discernable. "We noticed." "About time." She murmured. An arrow, enchanted with less-than-usual-magic embedded itself on the floor near the door. Acting as a trip mine. "Wadda hells jus' happen!?" he bellowed. "I's been tryin' ta FUGGIN AVOID goin's all face-daown in muh damn dinner, an sum sunsabitch goes an' plunks me innit anuhways!? I'll KEEL im! ... ... I gots it up muh damn nose!" "Snort it out. We've got more company to entertain us." Another arrow nocked on her bow. Realizing that they were not in optimal number, Jazdia kicked Rosenving's chair, causing the sleepy noblewoman to fall over.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar scowled, then turned his head and snorted loudly again, this time discharging the remaining foreign matter discretely at the floor, before examiing the room for items he could improvise into a billy club, or just straight up use. There were decorative rapiers installed on the wall near some colorful curtains on the other side of the table. There was a long but altogether too thin wooden dowel holding them above the window. It would likely break on the first hit. He turned his head and looked behind. There was another decorative weapon stand, with several long but dusty pole arms poking out of it, and a lonely kukri knife hanging high above on the wall. He shoved the bench toward the wall, and claimed the latter two items, leaning on the pole arm like a staff, while tucking the kukri into the belt sash of his robes.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito had expected the baron to spill it all out but much to the fox's surprise he kept his composure. Was that turd at the end of the table able to resist his magic by his own will power? Or was someone else mind controlling him? There could be some powerful magic at play. The latter explanation certainly would bruise Kaito's ego a bit less. However what happened next was certainly unexpected. Suddenly the baron and many others at the table started to drop like flies, face forward in their plate of food into a deep slumber. The fox could not happen but to let out a big yawn. But as he was about to close his eyes he shrugged the effect off. Maybe it was because he did not give the whispers his full blown attention or maybe he was just naturally more resistant to such types of magic being an ancient mythological creature and all. Before Kaito had any chance to assess the situation a mixture of porridge, bear saliva and other foods came flying into his direction. Cedar had woken up from his slumber and was violently cleaning his fur from the food he had fallen into. As the fox whipped the porridge from his face he spoke sarcastically "Thank you for sharing your food Cedar. Just next time don't throw it in my face. "The party is starting eh? Well, let's give whomever is coming a welcome they sure aren't going to forget." Spoke the kitsune as he threw his bowl of porridge to Chounan's head in an attempt to wake him up. "Everyone on your feet and against the walls. We're going to give them what they are expecting. A table full of sleeping people." Whispered Kaito as he created an illusionary copy of himself that was fast asleep in the chain he used to sit on. The same he did for Jazdia. Now a perfect illusionary copy of her was sleeping in the chair. At the same time he created another illusion that made a copy of wall to the left and placed it just enough in front of that wall that he and others could hide behind it. "Jaz, can you see how many people are coming?"</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia suddenly regretted giving that suggestion. Not only the valuable food was haphazardly tossed, but now there was a bear snorting... a mixture of nasal and food matter onto the floor. Regardless of the despicableness of its owner, a dining room was supposed to be a sanctuary free from any filth and misbehavior. And now it has been soiled so badly she almost felt sorry for the Baron. "Jaz, can you see how many people are coming?" "Two dozen or so. It's like a bloody convention up there." As critical as their situation seemed to be, it took those henchmen a while to descend to the second floor. Enough for Kaito to cast a spell to make a copy of themselves. The bear stood close by, now brandishing a polearm stolen from a nearby display, instead of, you know the old-fashioned maulings and biting. "That's very human of you. And piked weapon?" the elf groaned. "Why does everyone in this country so obsessed with polearms?!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia suddenly regretted giving that suggestion. Not only the valuable food was haphazardly tossed, but now there was a bear snorting... a mixture of nasal and food matter onto the floor. Regardless of the despicableness of its owner, a dining room was supposed to be a sanctuary free from any filth and misbehavior. And now it has been soiled so badly she almost felt sorry for the Baron. "Jaz, can you see how many people are coming?" "Two dozen or so. It's like a bloody convention up there." As critical as their situation seemed to be, it took those henchmen a while to descend to the second floor. Enough for Kaito to cast a spell to make a copy of themselves. The bear stood close by, now brandishing a polearm stolen from a nearby display, instead of, you know the old-fashioned maulings and biting. "That's very human of you. And piked weapon?" the elf groaned. "Why does everyone in this country so obsessed with polearms?!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" The breakfast went on... and on... and on... What's the baron saying? It's rather distorted, like trying to listen underwater. Speaking of the baron, he's so round. A giant hamster sat at the head of the table, munching on a piece of oversized lettuce. Then suddenly the wall broke down in a shower of rubble, where a massive lindwurm entered with a deafening roar. The oversized lizard kept roaring for a while, spittle flying all over the place like rain. Yvonne covered her face to shield it from the worst splatter, peeking once it's over to see captain and the others surrounding the beast with long pikes. It's cornered, good. The mercenary hefted her own pike, aiming for the face as she- -fell right through the earth, into the deepest pit of the void, jolting awake just as she unceremoniously tumbled on to the cold floor. She caught the tail end of the fox's instruction. Blinking the confusion away, her body moved before her mind fully caught up as she briskly moved and plastered her back against the wall. A glance around. Table full of sleeping people, including the baron. The table itself was a mess, as if someone had tried their best to flip the entire thing. A fast-approaching stomping from the stairs. The exit closed shut. Huh, they've been had. And if none of them started dropping from poison, the food must've been a distraction. "Polearms are great, Sparky! Stab the foes while remaining safely far-ish away, what's not to like?"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "I prefers muh stick, bu' dis'll do. If'n I's gonna do a feller in, it gonna be done like a man. I ain't no beast girl. Ain't ya been payin' attention? I's only half bear." He gruffed and took position near the wall opposite the others, where he would get full room to swing when cracking heads. "O'er half's man. Don' be fergittin. We kin talks about it la'er, af'er we kicks sum good-fer-nuthin's butts." "Naptime's o'er ol' timer. Ya kin sleep when ya dead." He huffed at Reinhold, before gently prodding him in the butt with the point of his new toy.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- Well, Solomon was right. The whispers were nefarious. Intense whispers led to a harsh scream. Be it magic or otherwise, it gave Solomon the impression a banshee. It didn't matter too much. He considered himself lucky. A lich never sleeps. As for the staff, the baron, and some of his party members, they fell as their minds went unconscious. For what felt like an uncomfortably long time, the room became eerily silent. And then Cedar almost drowned in oatmeal, and Yvonne fell out of her chair. Kaito seemed unaffected by the spell as well, quickly thinking of a plan to hide, casting perfect duplicates with his illusions. Rather than hide straight into the wall, Solomon's body became black, resembling the shadows he commanded throughout the morning, and merged within the shadows of the room, leaving not a trace of him even if the illusions were not present. He also willed for August to engage. Not to enter the keep, not for now. Instead, August was going to keep the mages dismantling Cedar's mana pools busy. He was to stealthily restore the mana pools Cedar had planted from below the earth. By doing that, he was allowing the thorny vines to resume rapidly growing. Hopefully in this way, those mages would be too occupied to lend aid to the men inside the keep. As for the troops already making their way down, Solomon didn't have time to prepare any of his usual antics when it came to conflict. Appearances were made to be kept, and the enemy unknown. Furthermore, he didn't have time to summon a more combat oriented ally. So far the only thing that kept him in the room was the unknown entity's ability to detect shadows, and him leaving might prematurely reveal Kaito's illusions. He wouldn't be the first to act. If opportunity arose, he might be able to use the soldiers against themselves, if not summon another undead ally.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The stomping behemoth of a man turned the last corner, a flash of rippling muscles and violently red warpaint appearing for a split second before he triggered the magical arrow. The hall shook from the shockwave, but from it the large man emerged with a bunch of laceration on the surface of his skin but otherwise looking none worse to wear. Curiously, not a droplet of blood could be seen flowing out of the wound. "Gahahahaha! Now that's a nice warm welcome! Come-" He blinked around, looking at a table full of sleeping people. There's a mix of actual sleepyheads and illusion, including Chounan with a bowl worth of oatmeal dripping down his head and on to his lap. "Oh COME ON, they are ALL asleep?!" The clear disappointment was palpable in his voice as he lowered an oversized, rust-brown greataxe he was brandishing. Hidden beneath the false wall, Yvonne had to suppress a groan as she saw who exactly had just walked in. Great. Of course it's this asshole. No wonder nobody heard about him lately, he ran off here. Would've been great if he died in a ditch somewhere, but it's plain that evil never quite dies. "...wait, then where'd that trap comes from?"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" A hulking brute of a man emerged, seemingly unscathed, from the smoke and dust of the explosion. He was clad in little more than red warpaint and a tatty and stained loincloth, brandishing a rather oversized broad axe. For some reason, seeing an axe rankled Cedar's fur more than it should have, conjuring many memories of having to bludgeon foolish lumberjacks who had set eyes on trees they shouldn't, and bringing memories of his father lecturing him about not killing people, no matter how big of an asshole they are, unless you really and truly mean it. ("No matt'r haow big 'n dumb they is, Ya's big 'nuff ta prolly keel em in one hit if'n ya ain't careful son...") The memory of that first day helping his dad keep order against 'poachers' strolled through his head completely unbidden. ("I's seen what yas did wit 'at deer 'odder day... Good work 'ere-- Proud a ya...") He remembered. He had found a deer with an arrow stuck through its hock, where a village hunter had tried to shoot it, but it had bolted at the last minute, getting hit in a non-critical, and escaping with the arrow lodged in. He remembered that he had just learned how to heal injuries from Flo a few days before, and the opportunity to use the magic had been real exciting for him. He had coaxed the frightened and injured beast into letting him treat it, but was unaware his dad had been watching. His ears burned a little in embarrassment at the memory. ("But no ma'aer how good yas gets wit' 'at, no magic in'a worl' kin brings back da dead. Only keels a fucker when yas real damn good & sure. Naow, le's show 'is 'gentleman' da 'error' o' his ways, eh?") (Only if I really and truly mean it...) he thought to himself. Silently, he expertly flipped the pole-arm upside down, so that the blunt end was up, then aimed his shot, making a wide and hard sweep across the side and back of the man's knees. The hit had much more resistance than should have been there; like striking a stone that had a thin coating of dirt and moss. Not stopping from the anomalous impact, he continued the motion with full body momentum, whirling then bringing the bladed end down hard over the man's hands and forearms where he has holding the haft of the large axe. (I can totally fix mangled arms and legs, Dad.) he thought bemusedly to himself, before allowing his momentum to body-check the man into the table.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The big idiot was so busy with his opening speech that somebody was making a move at him. It was Cedar; the polearm swung expertly as if the entire country's penchant for blade-on-stick was not a mere moniker, even for the most uncivilized social caste. Not content on merely enjoying the show, Jazdia joined the fray, but with Cedar making his move and placing himself in her line of fire, Jazdia moved sideways. The arrow was enchanted immediately, but she took a moment to scan her surrounding; The door was there, a dozen meters or so. Still closer to them than to the enemy, and apparently locked. For now, that was the only detail she could conclude, for her eyes were already burning, and by pure instinct, the see-through vision wanes and returned to normal. She took some more side steps toward the exit, but not too far from her team. Lurea was drawn, and the big brute was staring eye-to-eye with another, yet more beastly brute when Jazdia's arrow launched toward his neck.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- The explosion wasn't a small one, easily breaking apart sections of the stone frame that surrounded the doorway. Yet, the man stood undeterred by the blast, perhaps even enjoying the prospect of more in the coming battle. As the dust settled, Solomon could further see just how unaffected the man was. Injured and covered in scars, but not a drop of blood. Completely unarmored, but armed, the man was eager for a fight. Jazdia's arrows could take out a bridge, so already his resilience was intimidating. The illusions cast from his recent friend, Kaito showed great effect. Though some of their allies were actually asleep at the table, many of them hid within the false walls. Cedar was the first to attack the muscled man, swinging the butt end of his pole arm against the flesh of the man with one swing after another. Blunt metallic pangs rang from the pole arm, but the bear's momentum kept his assault going. Jazdia joined in the battle, firing another arrow, glowing as it flew through the air in no time towards the otherwise naked man. Solomon was not so sure of the effectiveness of the attacks. The physical strikes of the weapons were dull, as though they struck something sturdy, as opposed to the soft fleshy pulp one would expect from being hit with the strength of a bear. Solomon slithered through the shadows of the ground until he was hidden within Kaito's illusory wall. Even as a bear, Cedar was just as armored as his current opponent. Should he somehow withstand Cedar's beating, Ragnar was going to devastating that that axe of his. Solomon returned to a physical form. His shadow magic was perfect for escape, but he would be nigh useless in the battle. And then there were also others to come following the boisterous fellow. Whispering to himself, he started to build in energy as it flowed in split streams from his book into his open palm. Luckily, the narrow space of the illusory wall was able to contain it. Soft whispers emanated from Solomon's mouth and the energy gained some luminosity as silvery and black swirls of energy mixed together. "I call upon thee. Bartholomew of final retribution. I request your presence. Heed my command and come forth." Solomon's voice was almost incomprehensible as the magic distorted his words. The collective ball of black and silver shot into the ground, just outside of the illusion, unfortunate requiring more space to fully activate. The stone floor rumbled and cracked as a mound rose from underneath the granite. Debris fell to the side as a dull metallic sheen reflected the little sunlight of the nearby windows. Suddenly there was a burst of heat as the mount erupted in fire before condensing into a ball. The armor began to assemble as the figure emerged. The figure stood tall, covered in metal armor blackened and tarnished with age and tempering. A raised emblem resembling the coat of arms for the kingdom of Kindeance lay etched upon the thick pauldrons. Likewise, the colors of the surcoat also showed alignment to Kindeance. The figure's most striking feature was it's head. The ball of flame now replaced where a helm would be, featureless, but glowing bright white with orange hinges. The figure bent a knee, lowering himself to the ground and stabbed its arm into the mount he emerged. With a quick motion, the figure rose back, pulling out a long metal shaft with a metal head wedged at the end. Two large and wide axe blades at either side. The continued with its momentum before it came back down into the other hand of the flaming armor, wielding it with both. "Ho ho. After all this time, you've finally called upon me, doctor? Have you finally found an opponent you can't poison?" despite not having a mouth, or even a face, the figure spoke. His voice very masculine, clearly this entity once was a young man now taken the form of a tempest, an undead soul animating his former armor to endlessly seek combat. "Now where are you?" Solomon spoke quietly as to attempt to keep the illusion from being discovered as best he could given the new circumstance, "Where I am is of no importance. The axed man fighting the bear, he is our enemy. More are coming after him. Keep them at bay, and protect our allies." "Say no more. I relish this opportunity." said the tempest enthusiastically. Gripping the axe tightly with both hands, the tempest jumped onto the dining table, charging straight towards the man who hasn't bled, yet. He yelled a heartly battle cry as he flew across the room ready to strike.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Hmm?" The only reaction that registered the blow was a slightly surprised grunt, Ragnar's leg sliding an inch forward but that's it. The following slice produced more result, slicing into flesh yet nowhere as deep as it should. An angry red line was left, none of the blood escaping the wound. The northener himself didn't seems to be bothered at all as he recognize Cedar's ursine form, even as he's tackled with the full momentum of a bear. That one showed more effect, Ragnar's displaced bulk slamming to the table with dull thud. The table violently slid a bit from the impact, waking the two sleepyhead with startled "huh?". Then the arrow struck, its glimmering tips punctured through the brute's neck. Another arrow from Veronica followed, right into the eye, but with a shake of the head it missed the soft target and scored a light scratch on the forehead instead. Yet despite the supposedly fatal blow, Ragnar laughed uproariously as he let his axe go, reached, heaved, and tossed Cedar on to the armored newcomer running on top of the long table. "Gahahaha! Not enough! Not in number, not in strength! More! Ragnar shall take you all!" The northener reached down to grab his axe when Yvonne's figure bolted from the false wall, swinging the mace low through the legs with the full force of her inner strength. A meaty thud and dull snap echoed, followed by a much louder crack of the weapon's handle breaking in half. Still tapping into her strength, the mercenary kicked Ragnar back to the stairway he came from where he collapsed - and promptly get back up, no apparent discomfort despite one shin quite obviously broken inward. "Huh, what? Oh! Mad Blade! Here for a rematch, ain't you?!" "Piss off, you motherfucker." Yvonne rolled her eyes, grabbing the axe to slide it off all the way to the other side of the room. Unhurried footsteps from the stairs. An old man with slick, white hair and even slicker, whiter beards came into view, his entire attire practically screaming "pompous wizard". Formal, double-breasted frock coat the color of burgundy with silken lapel, trouser of the same shade, cashmere waistcoat, immaculately shined leather boots, and a fancy purple cloak to top it off. He carried an ebony walking stick, the handle studded with various gems with more adorning the fingers in the form of various rings. Clear grey eyes surveyed the room, an illusory monocle hovering over the right side as he focused his attention on Ragnar. "Downed already, Ragnar? I thought you northeners tougher than that." Behind him more footsteps echoed, coming closer and closer to the room. Sounds like mundane reinforcement, but even the strongest can still be overwhelmed with sheer number.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar blinked in confusion as he landed on .. ... something? ... wearing kinderance parade armor. It's head was a glowing orb of mysterious animated fire, and it smelled like something long dead. The implication that this was one of Solomon's abominations danced across his mind riding the scent like a dance partner in a rapid 2-step routine. "Ya wan' summa dat? He harder'n he looks." He asked cheekily of the newcomer, who responded only with the impression of a 'smile' within the burning radiance that was the 'head', and a deep menacing chuckle. Cedar 'smiled' back, a rather frightful display of jagged and sharp ivory teeth that could easily have been mistaken for a snarl if not for the sparkling of his eyes and the alert and forward posture of his ears. "Heave-Ho fella!" He chortled, grasping the abomination by the bottom of the breast plate and a pauldron, then 'lance throwing' the creature right into Ragnar the Red's arrogant visage. He quickly looked around the room to see where he was now. The mysterious brute of a man had flung him near the door leading in, which was conveniently behind the false wall, and a short distance to the window. The table was a mess, but several of the beverage ewers were still standing. A man dressed like he shopped at the same store as Flo's brother, and nearly as old as his dad came tottering into view. He had learned from experience with his dad that appearances were deceiving when it came to the 'pulpiness' of such features. Sure, Vanquis was pretty spongy, but his old man was anything but. (Though the latter would only wear a getup like that around the house as lounge-wear.) The obviousness of his being a magician registered a split-second later. "Got a crooked ol' conjuror inna room!" he growled, hurriedly casting the well practiced spell to retune his senses to detect magic, while darting for the red linen curtains draped over the tiny window.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Well, and here she thought both were on equal footing. After some dramatic lifting, the bear was thrown away like a potato sack and collided with a summonsed undead that Solomon had conjured from God knows when. The specter's reaction to his summoning was equally boastful, befitting his masculine voice and a full set of armor. Knight in... err ghostly armor? Good thing he didn't seem as difficult as his mannerism suggest. --until Cedar grab the guy and avenged the throw-away he received earlier to an unrelated bystander. Well, at least it closes the gap between them. Jazdia did not have enough attention to see the aftermath of their little game of undead ping-pong, her eyes caught a silhouette of an elderly man entering the room. "Got a crooked ol' conjuror inna room!" "Yeah, I can see that." Like the previous unexpected guests, this particular wizard pranced into the battlefield with an equally prideful boast as his big lackey was. Only less swaggering and more pompous. A quick ultravision on that wizard revealed a copious amount of magical nodes, probably coming from artifacts with unknown properties. As for Ragnar, the magical aura was more uniform and intense. So that explained his immense durability. Even when having one of his legs bent like a crooked branch, the man didn't seem bothered. The arrow was still lodging there, and she had imagined its glowing head would burn inside the man's neck-- cauterizing the wound. Wait.. did she miss his jugular? Or was the enchantment so sophisticated it was able to ignore physics? The fatigue in her eyes did not allow Jazdia to activate her ultravision right now, unless if she was willing to pay the price. Didn't matter! The enemy was here, and she had enough power to demolish the entire tower if she needs to. Drawing another fully enchanted arrow, Jazdia aimed at the wizard. "Hold it right there, not one incantation or you will see hell! You don't want me to be your enemy!" And there she was, joining the trend involving conspicuous remarks and prideful one-liners.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark One can be forgiven for thinking that Jazdia's tendency to give ample warning before escalating the situation stemmed from her elven heritage that value lives whenever possible, but no. It was actually for her own benefit; it was easier to kill when you know the enemy deserved it and yet refuses to make a better call. Call it reckless, injudicious, or exploitable weakness, she did not care, it was a hell lot easier to sleep with more bruises than a dent in her conscience. Kaito, however, being her closest associate in this sorties apparently did not share a similar code of honor. Three illusionary copies of him joined the effort with his real self to attack the old man from four different directions but then got repelled easily as he conjured an invisible force to shield himself and knock the incoming fox away with its backlash. For the record, Kaito started it, triggering a premature engagement that the mage himself had already made clear that would only prolong this banter and the fight has to happen anyway. The arrow released as naturally as it was a breathing motion. An immediate answer for the wizard's refusal to reconsider his stance on this impertinent action of ruining a good breakfast and high treason. To respond to that feedback, his book sprang to life and deflected the arrow, then some more others that came subsequently. The arrow landed a mere meter away from the wizard's foot, but he turned to his subordinate instead, sparing some words to berate him before sending forth a doping spell. While the arrow was ignored as if it was a mere failure; an elegant way to mock Jazdia's magical aptitude and deem it unworthy of attention. The violet luster on that arrow was never intended to steal attention, it was, in fact, a side effect that Jazdia would be more than happy to get rid of. But that was how it was. And it glowed even brighter now before a small eye contact from Jazdia's violet eyes triggered its magical fuse. As the fire and dust and crystalized fragment erupted violently on the floor in front of the wizard, Jazdia prepared another arrow and have it enchanted with explosive command.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- Asevor. Now everything made sense. Or at least, the mystery behind the magic securing the keep. The deflection of Veronica's scry attempts, the detection and eradication of Solomon's shadows, any other attempts to look inside, Asevor was probably behind it. Solomon didn't know much about the wizard beyond that he was paranoid to a fault, preparing for even more unlikely situations or encounters. Strange it was to see him here, meddling in Kindeance affairs. Given how most of the baron's men were still slumbering if knocked unconscious from the multiple blasts, it would be safe to assume that Asevor was using the baron as a pawn. More so, the likelihood that the illusory wall would be of much further benefit diminished considerably. Solomon used the distraction provided by both Kaito's ambush and his own boasting to cast another spell. Energy went into the ground and the earth began to stir again. From the very mound Bartholomew had emerged three other figures. Somehow held together despite lacking muscle or ligament, three complete skeletons arranged themselves. Bones yellowed with age and scratched as time progressed, their only other defining feature was an ominous purple glow from within their eye sockets. Each claimed a weapon lying around, two with swords, and one a pike. The each went after Asevor. Though they may be knocked down, even knocked apart, should enough of the bone remain unbroken, the skeletons would continuously reassemble and resume unrelenting. Despite their undeath, these skeletons were no more brittle than that of any of the other combatants. In the meantime, Bartholomew was being pushed back by unarmed blows from the now buffed Ragnar. Even with a body of pure steel, with one blow there was an imprint of of his fist embedded within the chest piece. The sudden increase in strength did not deter the tempest, but he was startled by it. "Steel verse steel." is all Bartholomew said as he attempted to strike back. The ball of fire he had for a head flared as his resolve rose. His metal gauntlets tightened around the shaft of the axe as the tempest swung the axe with a twist of his torso. At that time, Solomon cast Dagger Hold on the barbarian. The man beast's strength alone would mean Dagger Hold would fail almost as quickly as it was cast, but it should stop all movement for the split second for Bartholomew's axe to cleave the already injured leg. Solomon hoped his timing would match. If he was successful, the spell should also do some considerable damage akin to charging through a wall of knives, and he'd experience actual pain for the first time in this fight as the final aspect of the spell.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] A crisp crack could be heard a split second after the concussive blast of the explosion rocked the room, momentarily obscuring Asevor from sight. The force knocked the baron off his chair, the rotund man tumbled to the floor right on the path of the two juggernauts that took to the shockwave in the same manner a boulder took a gust of wind. He sputtered awake and stared wide-eyed at the unstoppable force coming his way... and somehow the two managed to step around and past the oversized roadblock right he wasn't there at all. It would'be be quite comical, should there be any unrelated onlooker left in the room. "Wha- What's going on here?!" Then the gravity of the situation hits him. "MY HALL! BY THE OLD GODS, MY HALL!" "Return upstairs if you value your life, would you kindly?" As the dust settled emerged Asevor, not a hair out of place nor a speck of dust on his attire. A flickering layer of bluish white light covered his entire being, for what wizard would leave their tower without an emergency measure or three? He looked more annoyed than anything, glancing down to the cracking and crumbling gemstone on one of his rings. That wasn't cheap, but oh well. Money and material can be earned back. Life, not so much. The aged wizard surveyed the room again. Magic source... several. The bear was there, doing some druidic mischief by the window. The fox, still where he last left him but the illusion wasn't going away yet. And finally, the summoner- no, necromancer. His eyes narrowed at the rising dead. Even he could be overwhelmed with sheer number, sooner or later. But as the skeletons approached, Asevor allowed himself a slight smile. He would not be outnumbered just yet. With a valiant shout the mercenaries finally arrived, a motley crew of men from north to south spilling into the room like a tide of steel. They took one glance at Ragnar's duel before shrugging and forming rank, shieldbearers forward while spearmen and arbalesters filled the back rank. The second the last man stepped off, Baron Otto and the remaining servants immediately took flight and disappeared into the stairs. "You lot, keep them occupied." His book flipping to a different page, Asevor began tracing yet another tesseract as the crossbowmen opened fire. Meanwhile, two coincidences cancelled each other out to create a favorable outcome. On one hand, the prediction that Ragnar felt no pain could not be any further from the truth. The northlander was perfectly aware of every injury, yet he relished in the sensation as if he's only truly alive when riddled with wounds. On the other hand, he was protective of his eyes. His instinctual reaction to the sudden, all-encompassing piercing sensation was to close the ocular organs, but that momentary blindness bought enough time for the axe to bite deep. Through the already broken shin it went, hewing through the leg bone before exiting to the other side. Barely a strip of skin and flesh were left connecting the limb, yet it wasn't a time to rejoice. Striking so low with a two-handed grip left Bartholomew open for the vengeance act, Ragnar latching onto the armored undead in a tight grapple where the axe had no room to swing. The burly man flexed, metal groaned as he slowly crumpled the Tempest like a can made out of tin. Back to the other end of the room, the explosion had woken up not only the baron but also Chounan and Reinhold. The former immediately prove his worth as he stood and deflected all the projectiles coming his general direction, while the latter... was doing his best. Not far away was Veronica and Matilda, the vampire covering for the orc as she also intercepted the incoming bolts without even looking directly at them.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When her arrow exploded, Jazdia could sense something breaking from the wizard itself. She activated her eyes and saw one of his glowing artifact crumble and disintegrate, and what remains was the expanded glow that encased himself before it too faded into thin air. All that to guard a single arrow, and the wizard obviously didn look happy with that revelation. Even more so if he could count the number of flethed shaft jutting out of Jazdia quiver and the amount of energy she has and regenerated. Anyway, the crews were here. By the wizard's order they immediately worked on to 'keep them occupied' and how they would do that was by forming ranks and setting up a firing line. Before a bolt could be fired, a glowing arrow flew across the table and harmlessly stabbed one of the guard's shield. Predictable, and they should have laughed, but the arrow only gave them one second before blasting the formation with fiery explosion. While the explosion claimed several of them and disoriented a few more, the crew on the right side of the formation returned fire. Jazdia leaped to the right and take cover behind the table. Leaving the stray projectile to the gentleman behind her. She could hear several twang and thunds and all bolts had been masterfully deflected, and the one responsible for such art was none other than Chonan. The arrow enchanted in no time, while the arbalesters were cowering behind their shieldguards, occupied themselves with reloading their inelegant wooden bolt launchers in fear. Lurea was already aimed and ready to sing. Jazdia kept her finger holding the string for now, however. She had two options; either to continue decimating the formation, or blast the damn wizard some more. She picked neither and called out loud. "Baron! We are here for a certain prince you have been unlawfully held hostage in this tower. Leave this room and you will be the enemy of the state-- no, your doom will come a way sooner! We will not leave this keep without any brick unturned. I'm only three fingers away from turning this ordeal into a complete bloodbath. But if you willing order your men to stend down and let us do our job, I guarantee you we can work this out. Make your choice!"</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- Asevor. Now everything made sense. Or at least, the mystery behind the magic securing the keep. The deflection of Veronica's scry attempts, the detection and eradication of Solomon's shadows, any other attempts to look inside, Asevor was probably behind it. Solomon didn't know much about the wizard beyond that he was paranoid to a fault, preparing for even more unlikely situations or encounters. Strange it was to see him here, meddling in Kindeance affairs. Given how most of the baron's men were still slumbering if knocked unconscious from the multiple blasts, it would be safe to assume that Asevor was using the baron as a pawn. More so, the likelihood that the illusory wall would be of much further benefit diminished considerably. Solomon used the distraction provided by both Kaito's ambush and his own boasting to cast another spell. Energy went into the ground and the earth began to stir again. From the very mound Bartholomew had emerged three other figures. Somehow held together despite lacking muscle or ligament, three complete skeletons arranged themselves. Bones yellowed with age and scratched as time progressed, their only other defining feature was an ominous purple glow from within their eye sockets. Each claimed a weapon lying around, two with swords, and one a pike. The each went after Asevor. Though they may be knocked down, even knocked apart, should enough of the bone remain unbroken, the skeletons would continuously reassemble and resume unrelenting. Despite their undeath, these skeletons were no more brittle than that of any of the other combatants. In the meantime, Bartholomew was being pushed back by unarmed blows from the now buffed Ragnar. Even with a body of pure steel, with one blow there was an imprint of of his fist embedded within the chest piece. The sudden increase in strength did not deter the tempest, but he was startled by it. "Steel verse steel." is all Bartholomew said as he attempted to strike back. The ball of fire he had for a head flared as his resolve rose. His metal gauntlets tightened around the shaft of the axe as the tempest swung the axe with a twist of his torso. At that time, Solomon cast Dagger Hold on the barbarian. The man beast's strength alone would mean Dagger Hold would fail almost as quickly as it was cast, but it should stop all movement for the split second for Bartholomew's axe to cleave the already injured leg. Solomon hoped his timing would match. If he was successful, the spell should also do some considerable damage akin to charging through a wall of knives, and he'd experience actual pain for the first time in this fight as the final aspect of the spell.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] A crisp crack could be heard a split second after the concussive blast of the explosion rocked the room, momentarily obscuring Asevor from sight. The force knocked the baron off his chair, the rotund man tumbled to the floor right on the path of the two juggernauts that took to the shockwave in the same manner a boulder took a gust of wind. He sputtered awake and stared wide-eyed at the unstoppable force coming his way... and somehow the two managed to step around and past the oversized roadblock right he wasn't there at all. It would'be be quite comical, should there be any unrelated onlooker left in the room. "Wha- What's going on here?!" Then the gravity of the situation hits him. "MY HALL! BY THE OLD GODS, MY HALL!" "Return upstairs if you value your life, would you kindly?" As the dust settled emerged Asevor, not a hair out of place nor a speck of dust on his attire. A flickering layer of bluish white light covered his entire being, for what wizard would leave their tower without an emergency measure or three? He looked more annoyed than anything, glancing down to the cracking and crumbling gemstone on one of his rings. That wasn't cheap, but oh well. Money and material can be earned back. Life, not so much. The aged wizard surveyed the room again. Magic source... several. The bear was there, doing some druidic mischief by the window. The fox, still where he last left him but the illusion wasn't going away yet. And finally, the summoner- no, necromancer. His eyes narrowed at the rising dead. Even he could be overwhelmed with sheer number, sooner or later. But as the skeletons approached, Asevor allowed himself a slight smile. He would not be outnumbered just yet. With a valiant shout the mercenaries finally arrived, a motley crew of men from north to south spilling into the room like a tide of steel. They took one glance at Ragnar's duel before shrugging and forming rank, shieldbearers forward while spearmen and arbalesters filled the back rank. The second the last man stepped off, Baron Otto and the remaining servants immediately took flight and disappeared into the stairs. "You lot, keep them occupied." His book flipping to a different page, Asevor began tracing yet another tesseract as the crossbowmen opened fire. Meanwhile, two coincidences cancelled each other out to create a favorable outcome. On one hand, the prediction that Ragnar felt no pain could not be any further from the truth. The northlander was perfectly aware of every injury, yet he relished in the sensation as if he's only truly alive when riddled with wounds. On the other hand, he was protective of his eyes. His instinctual reaction to the sudden, all-encompassing piercing sensation was to close the ocular organs, but that momentary blindness bought enough time for the axe to bite deep. Through the already broken shin it went, hewing through the leg bone before exiting to the other side. Barely a strip of skin and flesh were left connecting the limb, yet it wasn't a time to rejoice. Striking so low with a two-handed grip left Bartholomew open for the vengeance act, Ragnar latching onto the armored undead in a tight grapple where the axe had no room to swing. The burly man flexed, metal groaned as he slowly crumpled the Tempest like a can made out of tin. Back to the other end of the room, the explosion had woken up not only the baron but also Chounan and Reinhold. The former immediately prove his worth as he stood and deflected all the projectiles coming his general direction, while the latter... was doing his best. Not far away was Veronica and Matilda, the vampire covering for the orc as she also intercepted the incoming bolts without even looking directly at them.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When her arrow exploded, Jazdia could sense something breaking from the wizard itself. She activated her eyes and saw one of his glowing artifact crumble and disintegrate, and what remains was the expanded glow that encased himself before it too faded into thin air. All that to guard a single arrow, and the wizard obviously didn look happy with that revelation. Even more so if he could count the number of flethed shaft jutting out of Jazdia quiver and the amount of energy she has and regenerated. Anyway, the crews were here. By the wizard's order they immediately worked on to 'keep them occupied' and how they would do that was by forming ranks and setting up a firing line. Before a bolt could be fired, a glowing arrow flew across the table and harmlessly stabbed one of the guard's shield. Predictable, and they should have laughed, but the arrow only gave them one second before blasting the formation with fiery explosion. While the explosion claimed several of them and disoriented a few more, the crew on the right side of the formation returned fire. Jazdia leaped to the right and take cover behind the table. Leaving the stray projectile to the gentleman behind her. She could hear several twang and thunds and all bolts had been masterfully deflected, and the one responsible for such art was none other than Chonan. The arrow enchanted in no time, while the arbalesters were cowering behind their shieldguards, occupied themselves with reloading their inelegant wooden bolt launchers in fear. Lurea was already aimed and ready to sing. Jazdia kept her finger holding the string for now, however. She had two options; either to continue decimating the formation, or blast the damn wizard some more. She picked neither and called out loud. "Baron! We are here for a certain prince you have been unlawfully held hostage in this tower. Leave this room and you will be the enemy of the state-- no, your doom will come a way sooner! We will not leave this keep without any brick unturned. I'm only three fingers away from turning this ordeal into a complete bloodbath. But if you willing order your men to stend down and let us do our job, I guarantee you we can work this out. Make your choice!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The baron paused at the bottom of the stairs, the words from the herald bringing his doubts into surface. Was it truly the best outcome? He had chosen after much deliberation, yet the spectre of doubt never quite went away. If he turned to have made the wrong choice then his lineage might very well ends, but still. Was there even a choice at all, in the first place? No matter. The die is cast. "Do you want to see them again, Otto von Kruber?" Asevor quipped, his words laced with annoyance. "Up. Now." Otto sighed, turning to look back to Jazdia's distant figure. He shook his head once before resuming his pace. "These are not my men, miss Crystalspark."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The elf sighed. Her fingers held the bowstring tightly as she added additional draw and released the arrow with impunity. It whistled past the henchmen, and the Baron himself and ended its trajectory on the magically reinforced wall near the spiral wooden stairs. The wall survived the blast, but the same could not be said for the stairs, or the Baron. Another arrow nocked, and the encroaching glow on its head blared like a prelude to an impending carnage. The surviving henchmen were still there, and some of them were ready to fire their crossbows frantically. They had to be eliminated first. And thus, the arrow released.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The mercenaries did not do well at all, but that's probably expected with the adept mages out there dealing with magical infestation instead of behind them providing a modicum of security. Well, no matter. The shieldwall took the brunt of the blasts, and what remaining force that washed over it was absorbed by the remnant of the first instant barrier. The next explosion, however, were more infuriating. Another crisp crack marked the cracking of a different ring, the instant barrier protecting the false archmage from harm. Yet the same couldn't be said about the baron who stood closest to the explosion, and judging from the groans and screams neither were the arbalesters and the servants in the vicinity. Thankfully, there's no interruption to the creation of the tesseract as Asevor added the last line into its form. "Koriloth's Purge Undead." A familiar pulse washed over the room, the three skeletons disintegrating like a pile of ash on contact. Not far away Bartholomew fared better, yet it seemed like the spell weakened him anyway as a good section of the living armor caved in under Ragnar's pressure. The berserker roared, burn spreading on his face as he headbutted the tempest back and receiving even more burn in the process. With a final snap he finally folded the undead in half, smashing the remnant to the floor as he roared victoriously. The wave struck Solomon's shadowy form too, and while it likely wouldn't be nearly enough to put him down it's probably not a comfortable feeling either. On the other hand, Veronica seemingly were unaffected by the indiscriminate attack. Things still seemed to be spiralling out of control. The undead were done, both the bones and the one Ragnar was pummeling, but now the mercenaries were taking severe beatings. And vines were growing all over the damn place, as if there's not enough issues to deal with. A glance at the northlander showed that he's still full of vigor, one less thing to worry about. Good enough. A big working was needed to stabilize things, in the meantime Ragnar can rampage all he wanted. And if he wanted it quick, well, his own developed formula was the fastest to complete. "Enough of this. Asevor's Bulwark." A flick of the wrist. The forming shape was different, all curved and elegant as it flowed rapidly into place like liquid metal in a mold instead of the ponderous artistic strokes of earlier workings. A chunk of his mana went into the spell, an opaque layer of crystalline growth spilling through the floor before turning sharply up and finally enveloped a good quarter of the room on Asevor's side. The arrow struck and exploded, yet the still-forming barrier actually shook less than the fort itself. A chair clattered on the surface before falling on the floor, the rest of it came right through toward a few screaming crossbowmen who immediately fell silent as it passed them like ghost. Verdant growth in the path were sliced through. One of the mercenaries inside experimentally tapped the protective shell, but it seemed to be a two-way blockade. Just like that, the exchange of projectile came to a pause. "You are lucky I'm here, I'll heal you lot. Shoot the elf when the wall comes down, would you kindly?" The mercenaries looked at each other as they exchanged quick command, the injured men brought closer while those in good shape reloaded and spread out in small group. Another shape started to form at the flick of the wrist, different and more compact compared to the previous spell yet it flowed just as smoothly as its predecessor. "Asevor's Purification." On Ragnar's side, just as he dealt with the tempest he was ganged on four sides. Kaito went for the eye, but the northlander whipped his head sideways and instead of gouging the ocular organ it scored a shallow gash through his temple instead. Chounan came swinging with his blade, Veronica with a scythe she pulled out of nowhere, and Yvonne with the newly acquired billhook. The man flailed madly, unconcerned that he meet steel with flesh, injuries mounting yet still he managed to overpower the assailant with sheer unnatural savagery. If one were to observe, his severed leg were attached to the stump by what looked like a thick blot of blood - his steps were uneven and clumsy, yet it was undeniable that he's fully capable of standing up still. Kaito, the first to strike, was the first to get out and wasn't caught up in the rampage. Chounan proved to have met a bad matchup, all the finesse meant nothing against a foe where his full-powered swing barely score a light gash. The blade clashed with a fist, Ragnar gaining another inconsequential line of wound while the ronin's weapon flew out of his grasp. Yvonne held strong to her weapon even as her palm cracked and bled from neutralizing the impact, scoring deeper yet almost equally inconsequential gashes on the meaty fist and arms. On the flip side, Veronica seemingly overperformed as she dodged every wild swing by the milimeter before her supposedly unwieldy weapon snaked through the flurry of blows and striking at the body. For the first time in the battle Ragnar retreated, a moment of clarity surfaced through the red haze as he glared warily at the vampiress' weapon. Whatever that was, it's doing funny things with his blood. That's a bit too dangerous when there's already an array of worthy opponents sitting before him. He need to play smart... or dirty. Thus Ragnar the Red reached down, grabbing the top half of Bartholomew by the arm as he swung the Tempest like a makeshift bludgeon. Above, away from the cacophony of combat, Solomon was finally left alone. He had emerged in the center of the second floor, in what looked like the baron's private chamber. On the nearest table was a small, finely crafted wooden box inscribed with enough runes to make it hum with power even to uninitiated folks. Beside of that out-of-place object, the room itself seemed like a completely mundane residence of a noble and his wife.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Teeth flashed momentarily as the bearman stifled a snarl. He could feel the green tip of the vine get cut, along with the section that had ensnared the footmen, severed from the roots and cut off from further control. Technically still alive, but wouldnt be for long. It angered him for reasons he did not quite fathom. Some of it the obvious of the work being wasted, but also something else; something he couldn't quite place-- somewhere between the anger he felt when people shot at wild animals for 'sport', and the anger he felt about 'tree poaching'-- anger at the cutting short of new life for stupid reasons. A few seconds passed, as he redirected the growth, slower now, and fueled by a portion of the trickle he had coming in from the outside, up, around, and over the top of the glowing prism the old coot had conjured. Touching the vines seemed to have no discernable effect, and he capitalized on that fact, overgrowing the entire barrier and the back of the room with focused, anger-fueled intent. satisfied with the work, he guided a thin tendril of the greenbrier 'lifeline' in through the window, then let it wrap gently around his right wrist; loose, new, flexible and smooth, and not yet coated in nasty bristles, before withdrawing the arm from the window. The flame headed abomination looked like it had seen better days-- crushed in, and getting used as an improvised weapon. He sipped at the trickle through the vine, redirecting it through the woody growth he had taken to leaning on when he had pulled back from the window, timing it just right to ensnare the tempest at just the right moment to pull it free from the moron's grip. It wouldnt be enough to stop the swing, as it would just pull the vines free from the wall they had spread from, but it WOULD alter the path of the swing, and cause a stagger. Perhaps enough for Veronica to score another hit. He released both vines, then rummaged in his bag to see what he still had. Mostly rose seeds; he'd need to replenish his stock after this altercation if he wanted to continue 'being useful'. He looked around the room, wondering how best to put them to work before noting how scantily clad the juggernaut was.. A wicked and toothy grin spread across his long-muzzled face. He knew EXACTLY where to put them.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Another explosion shook the entire building, thin dust and smoke filled the room, and splinters of wood loosely darted everywhere. Jazdia's fair feature feigned no emotion after realizing that today she had ended the lives of nearly a dozen people with her fiery blast. The gruesome nature of their death was a kind of a blessing in disguise that she had stomached a long time ago. They had it coming. At least death came at the swiftest that way. The elf squinted. Even after the explosion, her focus was never averted from her target, and she knew it when her arrow missed its target. In sheer dismay, Jazdia drew her bow and aimed. But there was no retaliation coming out of the dust, that now has turned into a magical barrier. As if praising himself, the wizard announced: "You are lucky I'm here, I'll heal you lot. Shoot the elf when the wall comes down, would you kindly?" The commentary, though rather foolish and served nothing but to let Jazdia knows their next move and plan, was highlighting her vulnerability as well. In a split second, she scanned her surrounding, looking for something solid before being peppered by their bolts. Between her and those protected crossbowmen was the dining table, it was already pretty battered after surviving a large man and bear-man wrestling next to it. Her relentless bombardment had also caused the long wooden furniture to lose both of its forelegs and now slightly shifted from its original arrangement. It was still standing, albeit like a piece of long dilapidated roof Should be enough. Now immediately jumping toward the cover would be unwise. The slowness on their part had given her enough time to enchant her arrow. With Lurea drawn, Jazdia walked slowly toward the table, with her enchanted, yet unreleased arrow keeping the standoff remained in a stalemate. Or perhaps that was what the enemy wanted? The barrier now changed in color. No, it was a new one seamlessly integrating itself with the existing barrier. Jazdia watched those crossbowmen taking their position and having the injured magically tended risk-free. Healing spell, what an absolute defensive utility he got there. There was nothing she could do about it. The clamor from the barbarian was now disrupted her focus. Her aim was almost swayed to end that prolonged ruckus, but her instinct told her that she must not let that wizard out of her sight. Now arrived at the desired position, Jazdia took a deep breath and readied herself. The enchanted arrow released, but before unleashing the explosive charge, the command had been changed to the delayed explosion. The arrow landed on the wooden floor just a span away from the edge of the barrier, and she could see some of the henchmen recoil in fear. The second arrow imbued just as fast and embedded itself next to the first. The third arrow, the same treatment, although the strain had become more apparent and finally hit the hardest on the fourth. The elf ended the strafe with right-hand hurt as hell as if the tendons had all been severed and leaving two that barely connected, enough to be used to draw the fifth that was already nocked but not yet drawn. She hoped those bastards would fire at her anytime now. So she could hunker down a bit before giving them hell as she had promised.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Well now this was quite the pickle. Six of the mercenaries had perished, and just as many lost limbs in the short altercation. The baron, too, was part of the casualties. Asevor clicked his tongue in annoyance, that one death meant he no longer did the perfect job. And Antigone wasn't even present! By all right there's no mage that could match him in the surrounding area, yet they snuck a low blow on him regardless. Unacceptable. "Bah, give a druid a moment and- Quit yammering, this is nothing." As the magical bulwark was overlaid with vines, it darkened inside until the only source of light was the tesseract Asevor was constructing. The distraught mercenaries stopped their hushed whispers at the order, though the death and dismemberment half their rank just experienced had rendered their morale wavering they still had enough trust on the archmage's prowess. For now, at least. It took some time to construct this one, the elderly mage needing to consult his notebook multiple times in the process. He couldn't see what's going on outside, what's with the vines physically and magically hindering the sight, but it's quite unlikely for his foes to have blown the door open. The clean up wouldn't be pretty, but this particular surprise wasn't an easy one to defend against. Tracing the final line into a vaguely serpentine abstract shape, Asevor pushed out the magical construct as it phased through the barrier and emerged outside. "Caustic Cloud of Ruzpin." A few moment earlier, Ragnar's swing of the makeshift bludgeon was interrupted by the vines. It missed, the excess force separating the Tempest at the elbow joint. Bartholomew's attempt to swing back, meanwhile, also failed just as hard as the vines weren't made to support the still significant momentum of steel plates. The root came off the wall, the undead clattering back down on the floor. At least he's away from Ragnar at the moment. The northlander wasn't having a good time either. He abruptly realized that the electrifying current within his blood had dissipated, rendering him only as strong as he normally would. He stepped back again, this time picking up a chair for a weapon, but the experienced combatants wouldn't miss this chance. A few probes and they confirmed that the magical power-up had ran its course. Yvonne hooked the chair before dragging it down, making enough opening for Chounan to slash through an eye while Veronica landed a deep gash through the neck. There seemed to be some tug-of-war as the blood was pulled between the weapon and the juggernaut's veins, but in the end a glob was split off as the scythe greedily drank the crimson essence. At that time, the glowing tesseract emerged from the shell. Veronica's eyes widen before it even took effect, stopping her assault to shout at the rest of her team. "Acid fog incoming! We need to get out of here!" ***** Not far away, Solomon's search would find some more rooms. The presumably heirs' rooms were empty and seemingly unlived for some time, though it's kept clean and spotless still. There's a few guest rooms, empty save for one - it had a number of magical wards enclosing the entire room, Asevor's mana signature littered all over the formation. These weren't meant to be particularly strong, but enough that it'll take some effort to physically dismantle. Magical intrusion still would met some resistance, though not as severe, yet the biggest issue was that any trespassing attempt would've alerted Asevor of the fact. The third floor was a rather clear split. About a third of it were servants' quarters and kitchen and whatnot, currently filled with cowering peasants unsure of what's going on with a number of them sporting injuries. The rest of it seemed to be where the mercenaries were housed, enough bedding for fifty men yet currently completely empty. A stairs up led to the battlement, the door leading up locked tight.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" The bearman stopped dead in his tracks as the glowing tessaract emerged from the vine encased barrier, then bloomed into a slowly spreading vapor that clung in the air. More unbidden, but potentially useful memories drifted through his head then back out again. He and his dad had been trying to contain and reclaim the 'fungally overgrown' section of their home forest. His dad had warned him about the dangers of inhaling mists and particles, but had offered him one of his shirts, which he had plunked in the nearby stream. "Don' breath 'at shi' in boy" he had said, while extending the wetted shirt. "Wrap dis 'round ya head, an' breaths through 'at." The memory left as quickly as it came. The ominous cloud of mist continued to slowly rise into the room, causing the leaves on the vines to wilt almost on contact. He DEFINITELY did not want to breathe that in. The pulled down curtain adorned the floor under his feet, which he quickly snatched up before scanning the room for something to wet it with. The elf woman's antics with the table had toppled all of the remaining drink decanters onto the floor rendering them useless for the task at hand. He needed something to wet it with, and soon-- As he hurriedly scanned the room, the realization that he had not gone to the little bear's room since Hdur came home to roost. He did not like the idea at all, but it was all he had to work with. Drawing and huffing an irritated breath, he hiked up the front of his robes, shoved the brilliant red curtain into place with one hand, leaned against the wall with the other, then relieved himself of the fluid fraction of the stew he had ate the previous day, until the curtain was sopping wet, and the pungent odor of "male bear" hit his nose-- which wrinkled at the prospect of what had to come next. He gave the wad of cloth a momentary queeze to distribute the 'moisture' evenly, paused half a moment, then draped the odorous rag over himself as if it were a table cloth, and he a table. The only thing he could see was red fabric, and the scent of "his own brand" dominated his offended nose. He growled, then turned toward the barred entrance door, and began to body slam it.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Acid? Godspit. Yvonne had seen what a magically conjured glob of those could do to flesh, she wasn't about to linger around and find out how painful exactly it was to quite literally melt off your own bones. There were two exits. One's at the other side, beyond the damnable mage's barrier and out of reach. The other was the entrance that was locked earlier. Would it be easier to break the windows? No, those were all stone and way too narrow. The entrance, then. "Someone hold back Ragnar, go!" Disengaging, the mercenary's eyes locked on the heavy axe forgotten in the corner. To think that it's useful now, huh? She picked it up, grimacing at the sheer weight of the weapon and the insanity of someone who crafted the whole damned thing out of metal, but that's a boon now. The door was at least two inches thick, regular axe just wouldn't make it. With an angry yell, Yvonne tapped into her inner strength as she swung the axe with as much force as she could. Over and over. Then Cedar came barelling with his bulk, the two taking turn axing and slamming to the stupidly sturdy door. Will they make it? Yvonne didn't quite felt like turning back to look.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The enemy's heavy frontliner was down. Good thing because Jazdia didn't have to involve herself in another fight. Not possible considering she hadn't been able to break her own stalemate. The violet hue on her eyes had been returned when the Druid's conjured vegetation covered the wizard's shield, and he saw him preparing another spell. And Veronica's shouting. "Acid fog incoming! We need to get out of here!" Even from this distance, the spreading vapor had started to contaminate the air with a sickly mustard-ish stench. Her eyes darted immediately toward the door. It was locked, but nothing explosive arrows couldn't handle. She hated the idea of terrorizing the hapless henchmen had to be stopped now, but her priority was always clear. The elf leaped for Matilda and dragged her toward the exit. "Come on! To the door! Double time!" In her restless surveillance on the encroaching mist, the not-so-transparent-anymore-barrier, and the door, she saw the druid running around frantically and searching the pile of thrashed tableware. What he did next was unobservable as Jazdia had better things to do, like pushing Matilda not so gently and prepared her arrow, that fortunately had been enchanted prior to this tactical retreat. Again, that made her grit her teeth. This would be the last time she looked back; The barrier was still up, the mist nearly reached her, and in that critical situation she saw the bear-- urinating? Jazdia was lost for words, simply because she had to hold her breath to prevent toxic fumes from entering her lungs, or perhaps to maintain her sanity remained intact. The next bizarre thing that happened was Jazdia watching the urine-soaked fabric disgustingly waving like a very filthy cape as the druid propelled himself against the door and body-slammed it repeatedly. Like... err animal? Sadly, communication, one of the most underrated aspects of society had been cut off from them. The notion that those guys could dispel their barrier any moment and shoot her when she was so occupied running from mist started to get on her nerve. In desperation, the elf drew her bow and aimed at the door, with a raging bear blocking it, hoping Cedar would take notice and move aside... Or somebody would be kind enough to nudge the stinky bear out of the way.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When she reached outside, Jazdia immediately cast magic into her arrow, only spared a flash acknowledgment toward the surrounding fire and screaming civilian before activated her eyes and aimed again. She saw a pulse emenated from the wizard. Another beacon wanes and disappear. If that corroding fumes were magical, it too suddenly neautralized, leaving only ashes and putrid stench that Jazdia imagine would render the entire floor inhabitable for years to come. If that baron was still alive that should be the least of his concern. She observed the wizard dispelling the barrier, and several reanimated dead already lunged at his men like rabid beast. But instead of staying, he walked toward the stairs. Her eyes were still incapable of seeing through the wall, but her hunch told her that the ghostly doctor was upstairs, and the Wizard was on his way to deal with him. Sighed, Jazdia motioned her left pinkie to detonate one of her planted arrows, but apparently the link was disconnected. With visible displeasure on her face, she announced. "Follow that wizard. The price is several floors upstairs!" There was only one problem, the nortlander and Baron's henchmen was still blocking their way. And she wasn't really sure the room is still safe to tread into. She could see anything that was remotely magical, but the hazard often came from the physical realm as well. Drawing Lurea on its fullest draw, Jazdia released her crystal arrow toward the line of enchanted arrows she had previously planted. Employing the of the old adage When in doubt, blast it! to its full effects.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Another series of explosions, incomparable to the previous ones, rocked the fort yet again. The mercenaries, the zombies, and Ragnar himself was caught dead center amidst the blast, not even the slightest errant scream could be heard from them. Then, as the remaining acidic fog dissipated, the still combat-capable members of the party charged back in. Jazdia at the helm, closely followed by Veronica and Chounan, back to the room desolated by repeated indiscriminate magic. "Rangvald? Jotnar? Off to meet the Ironhand, I see." As the dust settled Ragnar's figure emerged, clad in baleful crimson aura from head to toe. The explosion seemed to barely rattled him as he got up to his feet, sparing only one glance at the fellow northlanders torn to shreds nearby. "Felt that one! You're all that's left, hm. Bring it on!" Axe raised, Ragnar the Red charged forth like a rabid beast, lopsided gait barely seemed to inconvenience the brute. ***** Above, Asevor went unhindered toward his room... at least, until he got close enough that his necklace reacted to the presence. Taking a glance at the trinket, he frowned at the undeath influence nearby as he slowed and paused on the corridor. A druid and a necromancer, among other things. The most annoying of spellcasters if they're spared just the slightest room. Seems that another purge was in order. Crooked fingers began tracing the construct, Koriloth's working seeing yet another use. Perhaps he should pay the eccentric a visit after this business was done - maybe there's a new variation of the construct that Asevor could trade for.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito sighed at the sight of the charging brutish Northlander. That guy seemed to survive pretty much everything. It was getting pretty annoying. However, the fox was a long way from running out of tricks. Once more he tapped into his magic and conjured an illusionary large metal bucket around Ragnar's head, blocking all the vision the man had. To top it all off, an equally illusionary hammer started to bang against the bucket like there is no tomorrow. Creating a cacophony of sound. It sure would not kill the brute but it might distract him long enough for Chonan and Veronica to get some strikes in. "He's all yours" shouted Kaito as he dashed around the Northlander in pursuit of the wizard.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Making a second pass along the outside of the keep, monitoring the growth of his latest handiwork, the sounds of fighting erupted from the desecrated first floor dining hall, followed by a loud rhythmic banging. "... the hells 'em kids a doin' in'ere .." the bear grumbled irritably. Saying he was 'put out' by all this was a gross understatement; while he did his best to be chipper and jovial most of the time, he HAD inherited more than just a little of his dad's crude and volatile temperament-- being tortured with food, then being made a mockery of by planting him in it, then being tossed like a sack of manure, then forcing him to have to wear his own piss to evade having his lungs seared, then being nearly blasted by friendly fire had left him more than just a little cross, and the absurd and persistent clanging mixed with the shouts and screams of the villagers to the south had him in a rather foul mood indeed. He looked in through one of the fouled windows and saw that thuggish brute still swinging in there, with a bucket on his head with a seemingly animated hammer drumming on it, making a terrible racket. It *WAS* a humorous spectacle, but he was so over this guy. Then he remembered the diabolical thought he had intended for the muscle-bound bruiser. 'Hoy!' He shouted in through the window, while ripping the decayed and crispy black vegetation from the opening. "Shove 'at fuck'r o'er dis a way!" He grinned wickedly, allowing his malign intent to color the expression with a lurid intensity, while beckoning his companions to drive the bastard toward the cleared window.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- The keep shook, more so than it has recently. Whatever the explosion origin was, be it Jazdia or another trick of Asevor, it was enough to finally clear out the undead on the first floor. The corrosive properties of the acidic fog and the final shock wave of the blast was enough to finally halt Bartholomew. The flame on his head smoldered down in deep red before completely extinguishing, whatever power holding his body together diminishing along with it. They pieces clattered as they fell apart. Those of his recently raised regiment also collapsed, leaving Solomon with no touch among those in the keep. Luckily, those among the second floor were untouched as was his connection with August. However, he could see out of the window to just what extent Asevor's men were going to deal with the continuously growing plant life. The corners of the sill glowed orange as fire competed with the morning sun to light the halls. So close to the wooden walls and that of the thatched village houses, they risked setting the village itself on fire. A prospect Solomon suspected August would propagate. At this point, there wasn't much Solomon could do for those outside of the keep. He let August continue to grow the brambles as the roots remained safe from the flames above, routing mana and energy around to not lose the energy from the charred remains. After the brief glimpse outside, Solomon witnessed Asevor as he approached the sealed room through the hall. Of course the ruined staircase was no obstacle. Asevor's hands began crafting a spell. This time, Solomon could recognize the tesseract as the energy flowed from Asevor into his construct. From behind, Solomon reappeared from the shadows stepping silently upon the wooden boards. He needed to do something before the spell could be cast. A quick flash of magic Solomon stared intently from underneath his hood. Dagger hold. It would be of no surprise if Asevor was equipped with a magic trinket or enchantment prepared to deal with the spell. Ideally, it would completely stop Asevor in his tracks, his less than youthful figure unable to break free from it causing him pain and discomfort if he tried. However, even if the spell broke, the goal was to halt him. Much like how Solomon provided a brief window for his allies with Ragnar. If he could make him slip with his spell and break the concentration, it might be enough. By now Asevor was aware of much of what Solomon could contribute to the hindrance of his plans. His only answer so far seemed to be that purge spell. Perhaps Solomon could abuse that. At the very least, he needed to stop Asevor one way or another. He knew something either about the prince and or prospect of war between Kindeance and Meche. What that was lied with either Asevor or what lay in that sealed room. At the same time as the cast of dagger hold, another ghostly figure would have emerged from where Asevor was traveling. Violet, the pure white grown woman of uncomfortable physique hovered in the middle of the hall. Her arms with long sharp nails at the ends of her long cracked fingers out stretched. She opened her mouth full of rotting and misaligned teeth. Without inhaling, Violet lurched forward as visible sound waves escaped her maw. The paintings along the walls swung on their pegs. Anything glass or ceramic cracked and shattered. The piercing shriek continued as the volume and pitch increased. This close to the banshee, the scream would be enough to burst the ear drums of the listener, even knock unconscious. Outside the keep, the piercing scream was clear, the stone wall doing little to mute the noise. Solomon himself would be caught within the shriek, his undead form more easily dealing with the after effects than that of the living.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The elf stopped, the dust had settled for God knows how many times already in this ransacked room, and it revealed the enraged northlander, alive and approaching them in desperate gait. As someone who studied practical magic, Jazdia wondered about the cost that man had to pay to be able just to stand right now, and how long it would be able to keep him together if left alone. She decided to not find out, the black bow was drawn, and the arrowhead was now programmed and filled by its explosive magic. However, as soon as she aimed for his center mass, the Berserker's movement suddenly became erratic. A quick observation told her that Kaito was behind all of that cruel yet whimsical prank; a tubular conjuration now encasing Ragnar's head, and despite the heavy doping spell, the illusion was apparently perceived so real Ragnar instinctively had his voice muffled as well. Should she feel bad for it? Her bow had been relieved from its temporal tension, and the glowing arrow on Ragnar's chest said she didn't really care. What she did care about was when the pale lady positioned herself near the rampaging brute, anticipating his movement and preparing herself for what she predicted would be a series of heavy melee slashes. "Get away from him!" Jazdia shouted.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Not too far, but at least undisturbed from the commotion below, Jazdia gripped the railing and hopped on a staircase sturdy enough compared to what half of that spiraling stairs had suffered. As the bear's howl faintly echoed in that antechamber, she couldn't help but shake her head; would be nice if he make good use of his big displacement and helped that foreign samurai to bring down the nasty northlander. There was some magic pulsing, coming from below. Again the druid tried his luck with his overgrowing spell. Jazdia had reached the second floor. Her bow was drawn and her piercing vision activated, too busy to ponder the effectiveness of Cedar's spell. Both the captured and the capturer was well above, and sadly she need to tread carefully. Her violet eyes glanced at every corner of the room, scanning for any ill-intentioned surprise the Wizard and his lackeys might have prepared for her.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- The blast was quickly cast and versitle enough to strike both sides of the paranoid wizard inciting a reaction of incorporeal form for Solomon, and retreating through the structural walls for Violet. Solomon's body as injured from the arcane blast, and deaf from his own banshee, but it did not hinder him much. His undead body felt no pain. He followed Asevor to the next floor shortly after he retreated. Unceremoniously, Asevor continued up and out of the keep, destroying the door towards the battlement. Solomon could technically follow him out, but his shadowy form would be plainly visible, and he lacked speed to evade any other evocations Asevor might cast towards him. Violet had an advantage as she could fly up remaining invisible. For now Solomon hid among the crates and a decommissioned ballista when a sudden tower of plant material snaked its way up towards Asevor. This wasn't August, as he was still propagating the flames against the casters that used them to burn down the brambles. This was Cedar's handiwork. It was impressive and quickly gained height. Cedar seemed to have developed a special hatred towards the paranoid wizard enough to fully exert himself. If only Solomon was more adept with a martial weapon, he could hide among the vines of the newly formed stalk and surprise Asevor as well. Cedar's command of his bean stalk might bring up another opportunity for a surprise attack. Violet traveled to Asevor's position in a straight line, the timber and stone of the keep below not hindering her travel. Assuming Asevor's attention would be towards Cedar and his leafy tendrils attempting to grab at him, Violet could appear again, striking at the more desperate wizard with jagged nails that were more like sharp claws. The spell constructs Asevor forms seem to unravel when disturbed. Solomon knew enough that whatever Asevor was casting could be devastating if he needed fly as far as he did before casting. Attempting to disrupt it seemed to be in order. Asevors position should theoretically make it easier for Jazdia to fire upon him. The lack of exploding arrows probably meant she wasn't in a position to witness him. Or she wasn't in a good position to fire. As for his other allies, it didn't seem likely for them to be able to take advantage of Asevor's position. He watched to see what would unfurl. If Asevor was able to succeed in his spell, perhaps incorporeal form would help wane off the brunt of the effect. Otherwise, if Cedar and Violet could not halt him, perhaps he could make use of the ballista. It would take some strength of reposition it to better fire at such a sharp angle, but as it stood, Solomon himself lacked range.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Unfortunate that there's no one in the immediate area that could feasibly took advantage of Ragnar's mud-soaked opening, with the elf deciding to skip ahead and went up. Veronica did the sensible move of getting the heck out, Chounan's limp form dragged along like a sack of potatoes. Her magic allowed a glimpse ahead, muscles forced beyond its physical limitations as she shot out right before the overgrowth burst and covered the entrance. It didn't hold the northlander back for long at all. Ragnar was a walking inferno at the moment, plant matter curling and bursting aflame at the mere contact with his aura as he shoved and forced his way through. His quarries were gone into hiding by the time he passed, but then he set his sight on a different prize. The bear druid over there, maintaining the plant growth that overtook the whole fortress. With a ragged warcry, he stomped forward as he burned his own life. Above, the second floor was completely devoid of life. The rooms were empty, and save for a single guest room in the far end there's no sign of magic at work either. Then the structure shook as brambles and vines grew at a pace that would give nightmare to all gardeners, obcuring the windows and plunging the indoors into pitch darkness. The growth insulated sounds as their side effect, the entire world seemingly turning silent as the cacophony from the chaos outside was greatly dampened. Further, quite a bit further above, Asevor impassively glared at the rapidly approaching vines toward his position. He simply floated higher, knowing that the growth still had to adhere to its own physical limitations and would need an increasingly thick base to sustain its own weight. He's incapable of moving too quickly or else he'd break focus, but it was sufficient to steer clear of the increasingly desperate vines. Then, of course, the ambushers appeared. Only a fool fell to the same trick twice, much less in such short period. The only cover to get to his level were the vines itself, thus Asevor wasn't flustered at all. He pointed his left hand at the banshee, three rings simultaneously lit up as flame, kinetic force, and mind-flay blasted her straight in the face. The first two likely did little, and the third wont affect the basic undead, yet he lucked out that the filthy creature turned out to retain enough of her mind to be temporarily knocked senseless. Small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Asevor's right hand finished the last trace, the spell construct pulsing into an opaque monochrome mass. Now, time to see if Xelthos' claim was as accurate as his boast. "Xelthos' Servant of Death." The spell construct pulsed again, splitting into three parts before each grew and grew. In its place was tall, lanky humanoid creatures with pallid grey skin where from shoulder up instead of arms it had scraggly wings with black feather and a raven's head. The body were mostly humanlike with a distinct lack of nipples, belly button, or genital, while the leg ended in massive talons more fitting for birds of prey instead of the supposed raven theme. "Defensive formation." Pompous name aside, these were mere non-sentient semi-autonomous shadow elementals. Not quite the best at direct combat, but perfect for both committing and defending against guerilla tactics. And highly resistant to physical blows, something that he'll need if he were to proceed to the next step. Something that he could get into now that the three Servants circled attentively around him. Everything below was a lost cause. So, he'll kill everything first and proceed from there. Asevor renewed his flight magic, ditching the invisibility part before starting to trace a different construct. If anyone paid attention earlier, it's building up to be the same one that summoned the caustic fog. As Solomon observed the decommissioned ballistae, perhaps looking around for the projectiles and whatnot, he would notice that the garret was used as a storage of some sort. The inside, however, was cleared recently of whatever junk it previously held and in its place was a rather ominous cube of steel plates with sigils and runes carved on the surface, the edifice periodically pulsating with gentle blue light yet somehow emanated zero traces of magic as if it didn't exist at all. At one side was some sort of defunct arrangement of arcane construct, a detached link of wire suggested that it was until recently connected to the box itself. If Matilda was present, she would've recognize the box as something almost exactly the same dimension as the box containing explosives earlier, while the construct next to it had high degree of similarity with the one mixed among the explosives themselves. There's a cut section that may had been a door except that it had no handle, with a slot - similarly without handle - possibly used to deliver food and whatnot into the thing. There did not seems to be any mechanism to operate the thing.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar was not amused, and doubly so at expending energy only to have the dodgy bastard just float a smidge higher to miss the vines. As the lumbering imbecile approached, he slipped the pilfered kukri out of his belt, palmed the handle 'fight-style' in one hand while holding the vine still in the other, then waited for the inevitable attempted tackle. As the moron lunged, he instead dodged to the side, swung his weight against the vine to close back behind the bludgeoned mass of bloody streaks that called itself Ragnar the red, pulling the vine tight in the process like a rope, then quickly wrapping it around him, all in the same movement, before bringing the blade down hard across the back of the man's neck, then kicking him in the butt toward the window he had slung mud through earlier. "I AINT GOT TIME FER YA DUMB BULLSHIT. FUCKOFF."</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The room was clear, and she did not waste a moment pondering about it. Third floor, eyes activated... Jazdia usually never bothered with vines and overgrown proliferating around her. But this time they grow so quickly that she instinctively slowed her pace down. When the next floor reached, however, she started to despise it even more. "A friendly... magically enchanted construct, great!" And true to that, besides making her feel rather squeamish, those overgrown were an active veil to her vision, and having to exert more power to pierce those layers was always a bother, especially when done in a place where the access to the sunray was limited. After treading through the moss-layered floor that felt like cheap, soggy carpet, Jazdia climbed another set of stairs and reached the door. It was opened but blocked by the overgrown. In sheer frustration, she unsheathed her long knife, channeled magic until the blade was glowing hot, and slashed the moss, vines, and all. She was half expecting an ambush but found that the welcome was rather lukewarm. Carefully her eyes spied the coast. She saw the spectral doctor Solomon near another room, smaller than the floors below with myriads of magical emitters installed between it and another internal room in which the prince could be seen sitting and reading without a care in the storming world around his small cubicles. The wizard was up there... Was he really that snob he thought of himself as ascended being or something? The elf grabbed her arrow in a batch of six and took her time to enchant them with the explosive spell that would automatically explode after reaching a certain distance. A bit more expensive than usual, but look where she was now! The sun was shining directly above her head making the cost almost negligible. When the wizard finished his summoning, Jazdia had already finished her arsenal. The first one nocked and the bow was drawn in full, it whistled in the air before blasting its target with fire and crystalized shrapnel. She betted the wizard never heard about surface-to-air missiles before.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Loud snarling and a roar were the only sounds the bear made before transitioning into a foul torrent of curses and epithets about what ragnar did with his own mother. The futile arrow shot by Reinhold did at least buy a moment of distraction that he used to grab hold of the nearest set of vines near the wall, which he willed to begin an all out assault on the mostly naked idiot, in the form of multiple vines lashing like bullwhips. As each hit and caught fire, another came in right after, in a dizzying blur of green and smoke, as he did his best to control them while dodging the axe. Healing would have to come when an opening presented itself, until then, not letting up the pressure was the only option. Ragnar was strong, but not fast. The vines however, were very fast indeed.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Whatever that wizard was doing, Jazdia did not care, the bombardment continued even when the first one failed to bring him down. The second arrow trailed in the air, and his summoned servant also intercepted it. Not waiting to see the result, the third launched, the wretched lunged, punishment dispensed, and damage was taken. To shoot them until they were all down, and let's see how long they can withstand the bombardment. There's more where that came from! When the fourth was ready to launch, it was apparent that the Wizard's turn to answer her onslaught was imminent. Same trick, same problem, but now it descended like some sort of volcanic haze crawling down from a very passive mountain, yet its course remained unaltered by the wind. Jazdia winced and have her bow un-drawn. She had had enough. The elf gripped the remaining three arrows and cast upon them a protective command before returning them to her quiver. For much of the observable moment, she did nothing but breathe. A fire vortex started to form on her right hand. Breathe. She looked up as the cloud of poison hovered down towards her. Breathe. She kneeled and closed her eyes. A calmer state of mind was required... To breathe. Fire engulfed her right hand as she touched the stony base. The flame was her own energy, compacted in a volatile medium, unstable without its usual casing. For another five seconds, Jazdia kept on maintaining the flame. A while ago, in her current blinded state, she would worry that damned Wizard would come down and lop her head off while she was kneeling, now the concern was more immediate as the acidic fumes started to burn her clothes and she could hear her own skin sizzling. Worse of it, she could only ignore the pain. With a swift motion, the elf raised her hand. The condensed flame whirled and pulsated once before lashing its blaze in every direction. She braced for more pain as the flame ignited the acid fog and scorch the entire battlement in a rapid conflagration.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- With Asevor so far in sky and the cloud of caustic acid slowly descending over the keep, Solomon realized just how little range he had. For that battle, Solomon would have to rely on his allies, both living and dead. That is not to say Solomon didn't have anything to do near the ground. The steel box was of concern. It was a good size, enough to hold a person. The doors further supported it. The night magic, silent incantations that one wouldn't be detected meant this contraption, this cage perhaps was to be thoroughly hidden. Solomon observed the case, and the device, attempting to read some of the runes engraved to get a better sense of what he was working with. Unfortunately, he misrepresented how much time he had, unaware of how quickly the acid fog descended upon the battlement. However, it seems like his miscalculation was saved by Jazdia's release of inner fire, something he wouldn't realize until he once again left the garret. As for the ongoing battle, Violet was keeping one of the summoned bodyguards busy as best she could. In fact, being mostly unaffected by the crystal fire of jazdia's explosive arrows, worked to position the one she was dealing with as near to them as she could, though made very difficult by the shadow raven's persistence. August found he was out of range. The beanstalk could not go up much higher without increasing the base significantly, and he currently lacked the substantial mana to do so. Instead, he took individual vines and laced them with rooted seeds, turning the stalk into a pseudo trebuchet and the root structures into nets. The seeds held just enough mana that once they land to rapidly dig into their landing spot enough to sturdy themselves. Almost like an extension of himself several hundred feet in the air, the vine would swing like a whip, releasing the seeds where one would normally crack. Petra used all parts of her body to cast her spells. Her arms would come down, flip through pages quickly before raising her book once again for the spectral hand to lay upon the page and release a spell. After her first near encounter with one of the strangely humanoid ravens, Petra cast upon herself Blur. Her very being was no longer a sharp contrast to her surroundings, becoming wispy, and very hard to focus. It was though one was looking at her through fogged glass. While not impossible, her appearance would make targeting and landing further attacks that much harder. With another hand on the page, Petra slid her hand off the spell book with a directed point towards Asevor. The servants of death, at least the ones that remained, would have to act more defensively to protect Asevor blocking barrages than facing Petra. Rays of light were enough to burn and seemed to be a weakness of the shadow elementals.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Ragnar was there, ready to press his attack, when he stumbled and fell. The axe still in his grip ripped itself out of the wound in a spray of blood as he confusedly looked down, his aura flickering and vanishing from the edges - enough that his severed leg was no longer held together, robbing him of his balance. The savage rictus eased into an understanding as he fell, a mountain of scarred muscle and flesh finally meeting its end. "Ironhand, bring me home." As the aura fully receded, the injuries it held together returned to take their toll. Pierced heart returned with all the fatalities it entailed, lifeblood leaking from a dozen more wounds that marked the end of Ragnar the Red. "No fucking way, is he really dead? Good job, everyone." Yvonne arrived a few seconds after, kicking at the corpse without any sign of respect for the dead. Then she retrieved her sword still buried in the mountain of meat, and as a last gesture of profanity proceed to saw off the northlander's head. She glared back halfway through at Cedar and a horrified Reinhold, scowling at the latter as if he had said something offensive. "What? We gotta make sure, you have no idea how resilient this fuck is." Her effort was interrupted by a loud detonation above, the roilling wave of green abruptly replaced by a flash of crimson as the caustic cloud exploded violently. The vines took the brunt of it, as were Jazdia herself being so close to the cloud at that moment. That solved the immediate issue... only for the clear sky to reveal that the spell construct was slightly smaller but otherwise unaffected as it resumed spewing more sickly-green cloud. Violet was winning, but not fast enough. The remaining two ravens, meanwhile, threw themselves onto the conjoined spellcaster with abandon as they rapidly shrunk from the barrage. That, however, was all the time Asevor need to complete his tesseract. He victoriously raised his hand, the spell construct gleaming brightly before shooting straight into the sky. "Harlek's Incantation of Incineration." Nothing immediately happened, yet the sky dimmed for miles around even though nothing visibly obscured the sky as if the sunlight itself had lost potency. If anyone had any sort of danger sense, however, it would've been ringing wildly right at this moment.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Emerging from the smoke and leftover vapors was Jazdia, standing in a way that hid her flabbergasted expression. Her clothes were tattered around her calf, elbow, belly, and chest, showing the burnt skin beneath. Her injury testified to the intensity of her firestorm, yet the blaze barely licked the source of the dangers itself. And it was still going, albeit at a slower pace. "What a *cough* bother." For a while, her vision blurred, and it felt like she would collapse any moment, the damage was pretty bad Jazdia could have sworn she heard her father nagging from the afterlife. Yeah Dad, channeling magic without a medium was a very reckless of me. "How is that damned prince anyway?" Jazdia's heart raced, with a certain anger in the mix, she refocused her magic and stared into the room, half expecting the poison to have reached his chamber, cooking him alive with no way to exhaust the gas away. Yeah, of course, it didn't happen... for His highness' convenience, her fire had cleansed the air before it could seep through, with her paying the price for it. Was it worth it? Was it the right thing to do? Tough questions, one of many things she wouldn't do when the danger was still imminent and her enemy was still at large, but her mental acuity allowed her to do that, all while dashing forward, and the only thing that made her paused the thought that she had allowed herself to get hurt just to save a royal brat was a slight embarrassment after realizing her tattered shirt was draping behind her exposed midriff. ...and the mass of concentrated energy being sent to the sky. Despite the damage she suffered, the last explosion taught her something, and it was time to put that knowledge to good use. Reaching for her previously-enchanted arrow, Jazdia grimaced as the skin from her scalded finger peeled off as the arrow released. It trailed straight toward the arcane construct before exploding on its own and igniting the acid fog.</s>

<|description|>Jazdia Crystalspark Species : Elf Gender : Female Age : 54 Height : 175 Jazdia is a tall elven woman with a pale complexion, blue eyes, and long, waist-length platinum blonde hair that she often let untied. Elves are all born beautiful and Jazdia was no exception. Her attractiveness is often described as an eternal winter barely touched by the sun's embrace. But that's just another way for the gentlemen to adore her face that seemed to always sport a perpetual frown. At least that's original. Former leader of a peacekeeping organization, Jazdia understands it would be in her best interest to omit such details from her MO. Not that she is a wanted criminal or anything; she ended her tenure on a relatively high note actually. The thing about working as law enforcement is you will have no shortage of old enemies who would persistently try to even the scales with you even after retirement, and Jazdia does not wish to be tangled with such... nuisances. So now, she is just Jazdia. An adventurer, restaurateur, and tea connoisseur. Yeah, just put that in her business card. Traits and spells: -Blood Phobia (passive) Taking damage would result in lower combat efficiency. Jazdia will start sweating, having a shaky aim and blurred vision. At a certain threshold, her Ultravision cannot be activated. -Curse of the crimson flame (passive) Resting near any fire or under the sun would slowly regenerate her power and heal her wounds. However, any healing magic cast on her would instead deal damage. -Arrow Enchantment. Channels magic into her arrow. Can only use one type of arrow in a single turn. Has three flavors: A. Crystal Arrows. Glorified fireworks with an equally destructive explosion contained inside. Can be programmed to either explode upon impact, delayed, or remote detonation. B. Crystal Arrows Non Explosive variants, but hot as hell it pierces through plates and mails like a hot knife through butter. Armor Piercing, nuff said. -Counter Any close-range attack will be answered with heavy retribution. Figuratively speaking, sometimes this extended to the non-combat situation. Proceed with caution. -Ultravision Channeling magic to enhance her vision, Jazdia can see pass through solid objects and magical manipulation such as illusion and darkness. Imposes varying degrees of strain on her body depending on the area covered and elapsed duration. Prolonged abuse of this skill might result in myopia and gradual blindness. -Vengeance At this point, taking heavy damage would no longer weaken her. Now she is faster and deadlier and angrier. The third flavor of her enchanted arrows unlocked: C. Poison arrows. Deals heavy damage over time. The enemy killed by this arrow will have their body burst into a swarm of black lepidopteran that attacks nearby hostiles until either they or the caster died, or the effect expires. At the end of its fleeting lifespan, the insect will return to the caster and heals her wounds. Has 3 days of cooldown. Equipment -Lurea A recurve black bow adorned with gold and silver linings on its limbs. Has an absurdly light draw weight of 44 pounds. -Maugrim A long knife with ivory handle and elven runes inscribed on its blade. -Medium-sized satchel bag A plain-looking bag that doesn't seem too out of fashion despite being designed with function in mind. -Pocket watch A momento from her father. Well maintained and functioning properly. -Medikit Generic first aid kit.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- Petra's intuition was right. Unfortunately, she was not in any position to effectively warn anyone, even those in the air with her. That is to say, even if she had, she probably wouldn't. She did not particularly care what happened to Solomon, and being a voice of warning was not one of her 'commands'. Still, she was also one of the targets of Asevor's sun spell. Luckily for her, the spell missed center mass in part because of blur, and she had the forethought to fly away from the sun laser the pinprick foretold. The heat that emanated the blast was intense and though she was able to avoid the initial column of sun magic, parts of her dress was still singed by the heat, and her skin blistered. Not bothered by it, not even able to feel proper pain, Petra looked around, her head swiveling. Asevor disappeared from where Petra had seen him, losing sight as the blinding beam came down. The quickly forming clouds didn't help. Petra felt a cold chill, moving to descend before the weather worsened. Violet remained oblivious to anything other than the Xelthos bird she was occupying, taking to full force of the beam as the sun intensive ray completely engulfed her. The only benefit, if it could be called one, is that she kept the deathly looking humanoid raven with her. Though she could not be touched by physical weapons and structures, she was still susceptible to magical attacks. The intensely focused sun beam all but incinerated her. August and Solomon continued to work on breaking open the box. The box was too large to take all the way down without causing too much more structural damage. The beanstalk already had most of its weight supporting one wall, and the ceiling above already started to collapse with the garret. He concentrated on the increasingly constrictive force of the vegetation as he attempted to crack open the box. The walls might be strong, but near omnidirectional force applied on all sides of the box would break the seams eventually. As long as August was there, the risk of further collapse was minimized. Solomon looked towards August. While Solomon was a floor down with the box, August remained with the stalk, commanding the vines it sprouted throughout the keep. He noticed the bright thin beam of light poke through the remains of the garret ceiling spearing through August's position. Solomon uttered a quick word of warning before he himself suddenly vanished within black mist ducking into the surrounding structure. All August could hear was the word of warning, but wasn't able to do more than attempt to return to the stalk before the beam of concentrated sunlight tore through the remains of the garret though his body. He along with much of the vegetation by his person ignited. What remained of the undead druid collapsed, falling to the floor below, landing next to the box containing the prince. August's body smoldered as the teeth of his skulled head chattered. Cursing his fortune, August reached with his remaining hand towards nothing in particular. The vines holding the box quickly lost their tension, and gravity took over. Many bits of foliage fells as the multitude of vines were left dangling from whatever perches they were rooted to. The box leveled out, resting on the plant life that once held it suspended. August's arm fell, and though he lacked proper eyes, it could be said that his closed. With a final burst of mana, the remains of August's body extinguished as small stems quickly sprouted from his corpse, a multitude of colorful petals blossoming releasing a sweet scent in the otherwise dusty and charred atmosphere. Then with a pulse, the vines and the beanstalk grew several feet at once. It wasn't enough to reach or capture anything, but it was enough for the roots to dig further the structural integrity of the keep. The entire side of the keep the beanstalk occupied was unstable. And the weight of the been stalk was fully leaning into it. The strong winds picking up outside wasn't helping either. Solomon could feel the loss of both Violet and August. He was saddened by their demise. Violet especially. Though she may have perished once before, she was still a child in many ways. Still, he turned his attention back to the box. It remained entirely intact, the vines doing nothing to crack it open. Not even the apparent door budged, despite the evidence that root work attempted to penetrate its hinges. Solomon lacked much of anything to move it now. For now it was level, and hopefully the Prince would be okay if he stayed inside just a little bit longer. Solomon stepped over the roots snaked across the floor, looking for a window. He was able to find one, peaking through one of the bedrooms, through it was overgrown with vines. Solomon was able to push enough out of the way to see the drastic change in the weather. The once bright and sunny morning had turned cloudy as rain and hail fell from the dark clouds above. The signs of a vortex was forming among them as the winds picked up. Solomon wasn't quite sure how the weather came to be, but he suspected it might have to do with Cedar's bizarre dance among the current battle. Then there was Asevor, low to the ground now, but not for long as that cyclone forming above encapsulated Asevor. He wasn't the only one to notice as the rest o his allies were nearby as well either recouping or taking advantage of the turn of the weather. Petra had appeared once again with a volley of light. The beams of light magic that she had circle her body flew from their orbits, homing in on Asevor's position. With the Xelthos bird more or less dealt with, these may have more impact against Asevor himself. Solomon held out a hand towards the enemy wizard. Before he would get too far away, Solomon cast another instance of daggerhold. A test of the wind to see if it was powerful enough to break it. If neither the wind nor any of Asevor's jewelry broke the spell, the cyclone would would push the sun commanding wizard into what felt like a wall of knives multiple times.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The sky was torn asunder. There's no better way to describe it. Dark cloud roiled into a great vortex, a colossal eye that oversaw the world and wept in watery deluge and cruel hailstones. The hill and the fort sitting on top was actually spared the worst of it, the eye of the storm marginally calmer than the rest, but even then it's still hazardous to linger as hailstones fell, furious wind blew, and lightning strikes introduced themselves into the already chaotic mix. The village below was spared from the flame, only to be then threatened by flood and ice. The effort to crack open the box finally found some headway, shortly before August was unfortunately incinerated. One of the previously sealed corners popped from the force, traces of magic immediately leaking out as inspection of the inner working was made possible. Down below, a desperate Asevor fell under multiple layers of assault. Low as it may be, his bag of tricks were yet to run dry. Through one eye he saw the pain spell forming, and the activation of his ring sent a neutralizing pulse out that shattered it before it formed. Scalding light triggered the last instant barrier, the ring cracking and dimming yet it bought enough time for the archmage to reach his target. "FOOL! Stop that! You have no idea-" The sentient bear had the audacity to insult him. And even tried to snatch his spellbook - only for the protective measure to trigger, releasing electric shock that rendered the limb burnt and limp. Like a possessed fiend it still kept going, swinging with a bloody makeshift club that glanced off the remnant barrier coating the archmage. The insane ritual must be stopped. "Blackwood's Shatterbone!" Completing the last stroke of the tesseract, with hailstones eating away at his barrier, Asevor sent the magical construct right toward the dancing bear. It went through Cedar's hide and inside of him, pulsing once with no immediate effect before a step of the rain dance was interrupted with an audible crack. That finally toppled him, a few more muted cracks followed from the impact with the ground. Asevor would like to see it continue dance with bones as brittle as glass. Now, the rest of them. The sky was too dangerous at the moment, but he could still sense Harlek's invocation awaiting patiently beyond the cloud. Once the heavy cloud dispersed Asevor would be able to do make good use of it, but until then he need to avoid further confrontation. Him, a mighty archmage, fleeing from this half-baked lot. The very thought of it burned and ate him from within, but as long as he survived he will be able to snatch victory at the last second. The barrier shattered. Raising a hand to cover his head, Asevor tapped one of his ring before abruptly disappearing from sight. Plain old invisibility, with the weather this bad it'll be nearly impossible to keep track of him. Flying low as fast as he dared, the elderly man rushed back toward the fort where he'll be safe from the wrath of the sky. Hailstones kept on falling. Already cuts and bruises marred his wrinkled skin. Nearby, Veronica was busy. After bailing out Chounan yet again, she had to drag him into the nearby stable to keep him away from the hail. Then the vampiress went back out and retrieved Yvonne and Reinhold, both burned rather severely and was in no condition to move. She had to cut out the mercenary's armor for it had partially melted, though it did its job absorbing a portion of the beam's destructive energy before it struck her fully. Her left side was littered with angry red blisters, part of the face faring even worse. Meanwhile, the hunter was... not in good condition at all. The damage was severe enough that some part were blackened charcoal, and without some miracle he's not going to live much longer. With all involved parties battered and exhausted, it would not take much longer before the battle finally saw the end. One way or another.</s>

<|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia readied shot, and for God's sake, she could hear the incantation as the bladed point of her arrow creaked in purplish flame. When the bolt of arcane magic struck down, however, she determined that it was already too late to intercept the attack. She only caught a glimpse of the collapsing bear before returning her attention to the caster himself. Composed as ever, yet still irritated by waves of pain coming from her injuries, Jazdia drew her bow and aimed. When the wizard cloaked himself in an invisibility spell, she activated her eyes, casually, like a trained operator responding to a blackout by switching on a flashlight. Her mental crosshair wobbles a bit to follow her target. That target in question was the bluish man with several shining dots that seemed to have its intensity decreased. Against the chromatic background, that silhouette flew away, straight, and despite the hailstones, it was not even trying to make any erratic move, or try to protect itself with another layer of arcane energy, perhaps in sheer arrogance, or fear. A perfect target nonetheless. The arrow launched, aimed as true as Jazdia could manage, and no amount of hard wind or icy pellets may deter it from its path.</s>

<|description|>Kagetane Chounan Species: Human Gender: Male Age: Around Early 20s Height: 165 cm Appearance: People only heard him on early and during the war, no one knows who he is except the king, prince and king's military personals. They describe his appearances unique and odd along with other knights. It was a iron-clad with a different design, an odd looking headwear with a pair of horned attached, the facewear resembled as a demonic looking. He fought savagely with a multi type of weapon in the heat of the battle. Without an armor, he is wearing kimono and hakama. He has a medium skin tone, handsome facial, shouldered length black hair that always tied as ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. Bio: He came from the land of Samurai. An only son of the defeated daimyo that fled to the nation along with his mother. With an unfortunate event, the ship they ridden capsized by a tidal wave. He was only the one that had been recovered from the shore of Kindeance. He entered his service at 16 years old from the lowest to the knight of the field. On his skirmishes he gained his nickname of The Horned Ironclad Demon. Adapted with various type of weapon in the heat of battlefield, matching enemies from one against the hundred, he fought savagely and brought fear to the opposing side. He took many of the heads of suspected superiors on opposing side to the king. A samurai way to proven himself as useful fighter. He served loyally to the king and developed a close bond to the young prince. After his service. He became a member of the Adventurer's Guild. Rose up the rumors about him as he keep soloing the high difficulty quests. When the event came by, he received a special quest straight from the top, which is the king himself. He accepted it because he knew he was trustworthy and capable to doing this special task and the young prince was involved on this event. The ronin attended the king along with the unfamiliar new faces. Skillset and spells: Mononofu: The way of the samurai. Compatible with various samurai weapons and mentally focus during the battlefield. Gaining almost perfect Hit rate and has an immunity against mental debuff. When mounted, gains high ground advantages along with the compatible weapons. Ki:a natural energy given off by people and objects when they move. It exists separate from mana. Ki-sensing can be used to predict attacks and others' movement, including natural objects and events found in nature. Perfect counter: Deflecting melee and physical projectiles. Counter and re-counter counter attacks. Equipment: Personal horse, samurai armor set and samurai weapons, adventurer bag, convenient consumable stuffs for traveling and a tea set. Others: He is an experience fighter with quick reaction time and have a sharper instinct than an average. He is also light footed. He likes tea and love to promote his cuisine as he is good on cooking.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Our man need to sleep somewhere, yeah? Good point though, so we go in fast and hard. You got our exit planned?" This felt kinda rushed, unless Sparky here secretly already kept a plan to assault the target. Wont be too surprising if she did, honestly. The elf had way too many obstructive layer to be just a disposable pawn like the rest of the team. Just what kind of company was she running? Yvonne took another bite out of her chicken. Whatever company it was, they made some damn good chicken. "Yeah, nah. Let's just attack them as your initial plan. If it goes well there should be no tangible way to connect it to us." As if any plan ever went well. If it require more than two steps it's less of a plan and more of wishful thinking, but Yvonne just shrug. She'll improvise on the fly if it's necessary, it's nowhere near her first time up shit creek with no paddle. "You sure our target will be there? It's well past midnight in eight hours."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The idea was solid, but plain physics dictated that it wasn't a possible outcome. Converting the ashes back into paper was a slow, energy consuming process, but as it went there's clearly something wrong with it. The reproduced paper was based on the remaining corners - ergo, completely blank. Combustion tend to be a one way street after all. A fly buzzed and landed on the paper. It rubbed its front pair of legs impertinently.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. The fly was incinerated upon approach, and he irritatingly shot the ashes and paper in his hand forward, making a cloud of black smoke and a decent smear on the wall. His usefulness to this team at this point was already questionable, but it only seems to dwindle further. No, there's one more foray left to tackle. Henri moved closer to the stairs and carefully discarded all the items that weren't his but Cedar's, then headed down the stairs, meeting the other four members mid-way. As he took something off from inside his coat, "Cedar, I left your stuff in there. Matilda," he handed back her family's medallion, and walked past them. "I'm going to check the submerged floors." His shoes make an awful amount of clacking noises without Cedar's boots, huh. Putting bronze soles on his shoes for easier sliding and skating... It definitely is one of the ideas of all time. After making sure that all the items within his body are fully sealed to prevent water damage, and depraved of air to prevent buoyancy, he walked down the waterlogged stairs and into the water.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The submerged level was pitch black. Moss grown on just about any surface, while tiny fishes lazily floated around the room without much care to the world. The layout was much the same as the floors above, and equally empty. Seemed that this level wasn't instantly flooded back then, allowing the content to be evacuated before the water took them. The structure itself was relatively well-preserved despite decades sitting underwater, though the great logs holding up the ceiling had shown some signs of rotting by now. The stairs still continued down, to what must've been the cellar.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito listened quietly to Jazdia's plan. It was pretty audacious to just blitz in through the front door, grab the man and get out. However if they could manage to lure away enough people, they might make it to the target and get out. However, the aftermath could become problematic. The Black Serpent's guild would see it as a declaration of war. "I think it is plausible. With the distraction and the element of surprise to actually get in and get out. No one in the Black Serpent guild is going to expect anyone storming through the front door. So far so good. But the plan hinges on if we can find evidence of their involvement and if we can persuade the royal court to make a move. If we fail on that second part we'll have the entire guild coming for our heads. I doubt constable Delving would be very pleased to raid the Black Serpent guild for us after today, in the case he's not involved with them himself. Who do we present the evidence to?"</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Invoking Golem Automaton's 30ft-radius perception to be able to 'see' solid surfaces and temperature in the water. As he walks deeper in and the mineral oil grease seeps upward out of his body, he wondered. What exactly did he expect to find here? These lower floors must have been submerged for an innumerable amount of years, exploring this has a massive chance of being completely fruitless in relation to finding the prince. Nevertheless, he pushed on, down towards the cellar. He was curious.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] An actual door actually barred the cellar entrance, though the once solid wood had rotten soft and the hinges rusted brittle. It detached and slowly fell backward with the slightest push, impacting the ground with a dull thud. There's many objects here - barrels by the dozens lined the walls on both sides, whatever it contained had long since compromised by the rotting wood. There's a sizeable wooden table down at the center, flanked by long benches, equally rotten to the rest of the room. On the far side was what looked like a well, its purpose made obsolete by the sheer amount of water available in the immediate vicinity. On closer examination, a few chests were stacked at the corner next to the barrels. Rot had started to afflict the wood, but nowhere as severe as the rest of everything in the cellar. Was the wood treated before?</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar gladly reclaimed his clothes and boots-- then set about washing the remaining bits of muck (and filth, from the way he came in) from his extremities before re-clothing himself. "Nice ta get my clothes back on--" he murmured. "Nasty way in though-- an' I JUST had a bath!" He frowned in that inscrutable way he did when displeased. He turned to face Matilda. "Looks like 'is place is all cleared out a'eady. Shame-- I werent none too sure if'n there was bastards in 'ere stills er not-- Spent a good hour planting surprises for em, if'n they was... Had jus' gotten all clean from walkin' the marsh all in muf fur for disguise reasons, when Henri said ya was in here aready. Glad ta see ain't no harm done... Lesee what the dumbshits lef' fer us." Reclaiming his walking stick and leaning on it in his usual manner, he began his own inspection of the room he and Matilda were in.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Some part remained relatively untouched. The bedrolls was still laid out in order on one side. The one cookpot with a layer of moldy something at the bottom was still by its lonesome at the corner after someone kicked it off the spit a few days ago. The face-down corpse and unstrung bow hadn't moved at all from its previous position, near dead center amidst the pool of dried blood and a veritable swarm of flies. And some crows, that took stock of the party for a grand total of three seconds before returning to their feast. A few things changed. The ash that was gathered by the cooking fire had been dashed against a wall, leaving a white-grey splotch and a few scattered scrap of paper. The rolls of tools have been, well, unrolled to reveal their secret. Empty backpacks piled on one side, its content regurgitated and rearranged in an obsessively neat manner across the floor. A few adventurous flies were crawling over the recently unveiled preserved food, impertinently rubbing their front legs together like a group of evil masterminds.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. By this amount of barrels... How much of this waterlogged room is just wine? If someone else swam in here, would they get drunk? He grabbed one of rotten barrels and cast Inorganic Heal on it. Yeah, that would work. He tossed the repaired barrel aside, back into where he found it, as he focused on the two chests beside the corners of the barrel racks. Wait. He walked a little around the table, and saw a third chest, and a fourth. Ah. He summarily kicked the table and chairs aside, disintegrating them into nothing but a disheveled wood pile on one side of the room, and willed the chests to scoot closer to him so they're all at arm's reach. These chests... It's probably safe to open them underwater, right? These chests don't exactly come waterproof. Henri began opening them, one by one, with his own hands so as to naturally dismantle any such magical traps laid on them, while using Telekinesis to basically command the locks to release or be shattered.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Thankfully, the way alcohol worked it'll disperse very quickly in presence of water. Not like Henri could get drunk, but still. Think of the fishes. As for the latest loot, each of them let out sizeable air bubbles as they're opened. Upon closer look there's rubber lining the rims, giving them good waterproofing to last through all these decades submerged. They're filled with bottles. The first two, according to the label, was whiskey. The next two had differently shaped bottle, labeled vodka. Not like it's readable in the pitch black. Within each box was a piece of paper that was probably receipt or something, now completely drenched by the rushing water.</s>

<|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chonan nodded at Jazdia, and took the arrows from her, along with the map that listed the targeted locations. "I shall start early to make the needed preparations. Thank you for the meal; I'll catch up with you guys later." he said, while making a bow to the party, before immediately leaving the inn. He headed to the weapon shop to browse for a bow, pathing straight to their displayed wares, where he picked out a decent long bow then tested its pull weight. Nodding his satisfaction to the shopkeeper, he approached the counter to make his purchase. "A Longbow huh? Well, that's something new from you." the man said. "What happened to your sense of artistic fashion? That seems a bit plain for your tastes." "It never hurts to try new things." replied Chounan. "I see.." said the owner, rubbing his face with an amused smile, as Chounan counted out the coin. Having made the purchase, he left the weapon shop. His reasons for purchasing a simpler, more common bow were pretty straight forward: His preferred Yumi was rather conspicuous and easily identified. He did not want to be identified as the culprit, should people start asking. Appearances weren't important. The clothing he had on underneath his armor was dark, and would blend into the shadows in the alleys at night nicely. *** (This mission should be effortless. I've been practicing the bow since I was 3, and this will be no different from any of the competitions I've shot in, and took the purse.) he thought to himself. Soon enough, it was time for the mission. He took his horse, Kuro, and dressed in a hooded cloak for extra concealment. As his name suggested (for any that knew the language, anyway), Kuro was black, making finding the branding mark on him difficult in the daylight, let alone at night. Identifying him should be all but impossible. Like a bandit on a raid, he headed for his first target. He remained calm, enforcing the proper breathing techniques from his many competative shooting contests back home. He drew the bow back, then released the arrow straight into the rafters of the warehouse, right through the open ventillation window without stopping his horse, before moving to the next target. One arrow per warehouse, unless size dictated more. Using the back alley ways, and 'scenic byways' to escape guard patrols and Guild members, he made his way back to link up with the group once more in the early hours of the morning, meeting with Jazdia as she was having her morning breakfast.</s>

<|description|>Kagetane Chounan Species: Human Gender: Male Age: Around Early 20s Height: 165 cm Appearance: People only heard him on early and during the war, no one knows who he is except the king, prince and king's military personals. They describe his appearances unique and odd along with other knights. It was a iron-clad with a different design, an odd looking headwear with a pair of horned attached, the facewear resembled as a demonic looking. He fought savagely with a multi type of weapon in the heat of the battle. Without an armor, he is wearing kimono and hakama. He has a medium skin tone, handsome facial, shouldered length black hair that always tied as ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. Bio: He came from the land of Samurai. An only son of the defeated daimyo that fled to the nation along with his mother. With an unfortunate event, the ship they ridden capsized by a tidal wave. He was only the one that had been recovered from the shore of Kindeance. He entered his service at 16 years old from the lowest to the knight of the field. On his skirmishes he gained his nickname of The Horned Ironclad Demon. Adapted with various type of weapon in the heat of battlefield, matching enemies from one against the hundred, he fought savagely and brought fear to the opposing side. He took many of the heads of suspected superiors on opposing side to the king. A samurai way to proven himself as useful fighter. He served loyally to the king and developed a close bond to the young prince. After his service. He became a member of the Adventurer's Guild. Rose up the rumors about him as he keep soloing the high difficulty quests. When the event came by, he received a special quest straight from the top, which is the king himself. He accepted it because he knew he was trustworthy and capable to doing this special task and the young prince was involved on this event. The ronin attended the king along with the unfamiliar new faces. Skillset and spells: Mononofu: The way of the samurai. Compatible with various samurai weapons and mentally focus during the battlefield. Gaining almost perfect Hit rate and has an immunity against mental debuff. When mounted, gains high ground advantages along with the compatible weapons. Ki:a natural energy given off by people and objects when they move. It exists separate from mana. Ki-sensing can be used to predict attacks and others' movement, including natural objects and events found in nature. Perfect counter: Deflecting melee and physical projectiles. Counter and re-counter counter attacks. Equipment: Personal horse, samurai armor set and samurai weapons, adventurer bag, convenient consumable stuffs for traveling and a tea set. Others: He is an experience fighter with quick reaction time and have a sharper instinct than an average. He is also light footed. He likes tea and love to promote his cuisine as he is good on cooking.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As the sergeant charging toward to Chounan. He made a step backward and quickly titled his body to avoid the fowarding thrust. His katana already unsheathed and its one his right hand. One of his foot stomped the weapon and push it forward to break the Sergeant's posture. As loose balance Sergeant met the reach, Chounan's blade struck through the Sergeant's throat. The suffocating Sergeant got kicked by Chounan to caught one of two other guild member following the Sergeant's charge. Let the remaining fool attack him while meeting a weapon with a deflection by a katana to lose the posture. The shinobi excuted a quick cut to charger's throat. He performed Chiburi and sheathed his blade and struck the remaining charger with a quick draw sweep before the charger regain his stand.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark ____________ "Honestly, I'm not much of a fan of all this violence. Why don't we sit this one out pal? Just us living to see another day. Sounds good, right?" "Whatever you say! I yield, let the bigwigs duke it out, ain't got nothing with them no more!" The crossbowman threw his weapon away, one hand still raised to block the maw of Kaito's spectral Lupo. Looking at the ongoing carnage, the thug better meant every word he said. Seeing that Kaito would keep his word, the thug skidded sideways, crawling before rushing for the door. Free and uninjured, one might wonder if such an act of benevolence was worth it, but the deed was done. ________ The Sergeant, despite having a cut on his throat was not dead yet. The samurai's blade tore his jugular artery but did not sever it. Adrenaline numbed the pain, and with bloody gurgles, he roared, making a second wind by rushing forward. Swift and unexpected, his last attack was delivered with sheer desperation and rage. The confident samurai was too quick to indulge in his premature victory, but was far from being unprepared, in an equally swift motion he twirled, evading the incoming onslaught, and retaliated with a quick swing against the sergeant's neck, decapitating him.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito looked on as Yvonne smashed someone's jaw in with her mace, while Chounan was decapitating the captain with a quick slash of his Katana. And this all happened right after Jazdia had blown a few of the thugs to pieces. It made the fox wonder if he should have killed that thug instead of making him throw away his weapons and have him run for his life. The Kitsune looked around and noticed that they had gained control of the courtyard. The Black Serpent members that had been present outside had all been taking care off and his group did not seem to have sustained any injuries. So far the operation went well. However inside the headquarters there might be more thugs waiting for them. The explosion in their courtyard should have been heard by the ones inside. Kaito made his way back to Jazdia as it was time to start the next phase.. "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Spoke Kaito as he pointed at the bodiless head of the man Chounan had just killed.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Jazdia walked closer to the door and activated her eyes. "There is no need for that. The upper floors were empty, and all activities seemed to be concentrated in the basement. The passage to reach the place was a straight line downward. Aisles and slope stairs with several rooms on the left and right. The opposition was minimal. Anything beyond that is still unknown." The group entered the place, and as the sun rose behind them, their sky was fading as they went deeper. And indeed no one challenged them. The passage was large, sufficiently lit, and rather clean. The rooms Jazdia described were barred from the outside. Devoid of lives save several flares of life force that deteriorate slowly. At the end of the aisle was a large metal door that stood unguarded, but no one couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was waiting for them. As they walked closer, the boisterous noise of cheering audiences could be heard. Jazdia activated her eyes again. Whatever behind that door was a distorted image, blurry and sometimes dark. The place was crowded, with many voices; men, women, gruff, meek and booming. Amidst the chaos, she saw a glimpse of a man with a prominent jawline and long gray hair, sitting proudly on his throne. "There was a barrier that repelled my power, but it was incomplete." She took a deep breath, already feeling the strain when she tried to bypass the interference. "But I see our man. He is there..."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" The entire place was devoid of life. Fucking weird, that's what. Those idiots outside in the courtyard could've completely entrench themselves in here and that'll actually buy some time but nooo. They stand around outside with their thumbs up their arse and any hope of resistance distingetrate within seconds. Yvonne didn't like how this looks. "Why is it barred from this side? Big man locked himself in there?" The mercenary strode forward, carefully testing the slab of wood. It wouldn't budge easily. "This smells rotten, but even if there's trap we still need to get in there yeah? Your call, boss." Glancing around a side room, Yvonne procured a table which she dragged to the corridor and overturned on its side, forming a makeshift barrier right before the metal door. If nothing else it'll provide some arrow cover if the nature of the trap was mundane men, but she really doubt that'll be the case.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The party was roused at the crack of dawn by a red-eyed Matilda, who seemed like she barely got a wink of sleep overnight. Thanks to Cedar and Anderson's effort they managed to restore the saddles into working condition. While setting off for Hdur immediately was preferable, doing so on empty stomach would benefit no one - thus a quick ride back to the camp where breakfast was prepared and food supply stocked as quickly as possible before the departure. "May you have an eventful trip, Ser and Madam." Anderson saluted at the departing party, now one man less than when they came. "If I find anything I'll send a messenger." The sun still hung low in the east when the party departed. Cedar's figure would've been an eye-catching one under normal circumstances, but thankfully the traffic between Hdur and the royal forest was practically nonexistent. Cant be conspicuous if there's no one to spot him be inconspicuous. ***** The village of Hdur was a relatively prosperous one, though still quite some way from growing into a town. Sitting in a fertile lowland with easy access to a forest for hunting nearby, a sizeable bog was discovered not long after the village was settled. This lead to a particularly important export of relatively cheap iron products, for the bog turned out to be a very rich source of bog iron. That said, agriculture still remain the largest portion of the populace. Grain field and vegetable patch and pastures and cattle pens spread out from the farms like gigantic spiderweb, no sign of planning in their placement. At the center of the village was the square, one one side was the tavern that doubled for inn while opposite of it sat the smithy side by side to the ore smelters and the fletcher. On the far side of the village where the lowland gently slope into a small hill sat the lord's manor, a knight by the name Sir Rabe who governed with surprising competence contrasting the man's complete lack of ambition. The entire place was a picture of idyllic countryside, their walls barely qualify as fences to keep wild animals out. Now, where should the investigation begin?</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "Hmmm. When it comes for a risk. It will be my pleasure." Chounan spoke up to everyone. The ronin went ahead Yvonne and stick near on the metal door. Chounan used his Ki to activate his inner self improving his senses on the surrounding for the greater effectiveness. The Ki-sensing detected the ambushers' breathing, fast heartbeats and their stances with the shaking from the long period of time holding of their weapon. He prepared his shurikens that match the number of the ambushers. As the metal door slowly open, Chounan quickly slipped inside on the sufficient gap between the door and door jamb. Everything become slow mo on Chounan's surrounding, he quickly readied his shurikens to hurled pricely onto the first ambusher who was the fastest to respond then continuously hurling precisely until the slowest responder. As he hurled the last piece, he dove onto the ground to rolled to the nearest toppled table for cover. He readied his bow to protect Yvonne and the rest of the team from the unwanted with an accurate shooting while in crouching position.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "But I see our man. He is there..." Jazdia hadn't finished her report when the Rosenving Daughter flipped a table and make a barrier. While Chonan... well the oriental man was not content with just preparing. "Hmmm. When it comes for a risk. It will be my pleasure." He announced. Despite his calm disposition, his words were laced with unadulterated excitement. He moved forward, opened the door, and slithered in. "No! Wait!" It was the first time Jazdia raised her voice since the operation began, and she immediately followed inside. A sharp groan of agony assaulted her hearing when she entered the room, then the sounds of whimperings and gasps. A silhouette in the shape of a human was slumped, followed by a thud. The room was dark, the torches were extinguished, leaving two spheres of ember glowing in the haunting darkness. When Jazdia reignited them and brought back the lights into that room, the atrocities became apparent. The room was separated in two. The first section had a stone beam directly facing the door. On that beam chained two humans. One human was dead, a shuriken embedded on his forehead. The other human, a female, had a throwing star stuck on her neck, and her body was spasming. The last Shuriken landed on an unused pillory. 'Please! Please have mercy!" cried one of the slaves as the light from the torches revealed their faces. In the corner of the room was a large cage with eight humans imprisoned inside. Males, females, and children, all mixed in one place. Their condition ranges from malnourished, to injured and mentally broken. One of the younger slaves reached out, showing her hand with three stumped fingers. "It hurts! I want to go home! Ma! I will behave! Ma!"</s>

<|message|>Kagetane Chounan The ronin fell into unexpected trap. His emotionless brought into a surprise reaction. Forcefully kneeled himself on the floor. His shaking hand and loud panting will be noticed. He grabbed his katana and stick into his neck, it was just amount for him to cut his head but the whole body was paused. His life energy turn into an overflowing presence of Shura. His conscious is lost, something is controlling him. This something made his body stood up and keep the katana. A grinned on his face and the body is heading where the Geralt located.</s>

<|description|>Kagetane Chounan Species: Human Gender: Male Age: Around Early 20s Height: 165 cm Appearance: People only heard him on early and during the war, no one knows who he is except the king, prince and king's military personals. They describe his appearances unique and odd along with other knights. It was a iron-clad with a different design, an odd looking headwear with a pair of horned attached, the facewear resembled as a demonic looking. He fought savagely with a multi type of weapon in the heat of the battle. Without an armor, he is wearing kimono and hakama. He has a medium skin tone, handsome facial, shouldered length black hair that always tied as ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. Bio: He came from the land of Samurai. An only son of the defeated daimyo that fled to the nation along with his mother. With an unfortunate event, the ship they ridden capsized by a tidal wave. He was only the one that had been recovered from the shore of Kindeance. He entered his service at 16 years old from the lowest to the knight of the field. On his skirmishes he gained his nickname of The Horned Ironclad Demon. Adapted with various type of weapon in the heat of battlefield, matching enemies from one against the hundred, he fought savagely and brought fear to the opposing side. He took many of the heads of suspected superiors on opposing side to the king. A samurai way to proven himself as useful fighter. He served loyally to the king and developed a close bond to the young prince. After his service. He became a member of the Adventurer's Guild. Rose up the rumors about him as he keep soloing the high difficulty quests. When the event came by, he received a special quest straight from the top, which is the king himself. He accepted it because he knew he was trustworthy and capable to doing this special task and the young prince was involved on this event. The ronin attended the king along with the unfamiliar new faces. Skillset and spells: Mononofu: The way of the samurai. Compatible with various samurai weapons and mentally focus during the battlefield. Gaining almost perfect Hit rate and has an immunity against mental debuff. When mounted, gains high ground advantages along with the compatible weapons. Ki:a natural energy given off by people and objects when they move. It exists separate from mana. Ki-sensing can be used to predict attacks and others' movement, including natural objects and events found in nature. Perfect counter: Deflecting melee and physical projectiles. Counter and re-counter counter attacks. Equipment: Personal horse, samurai armor set and samurai weapons, adventurer bag, convenient consumable stuffs for traveling and a tea set. Others: He is an experience fighter with quick reaction time and have a sharper instinct than an average. He is also light footed. He likes tea and love to promote his cuisine as he is good on cooking.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne took a glance around as Sparky left cover and traded some shots. Oh boy, a barrier? That ain't looking good. With how Aaron being completely and utterly eclipsed by his brother in every single way possible, it's easy to forget that he's not actually a complete waste of oxygen and had House Delving's extensive resource to improve himself with. The barrier looked simple, but for such things it didn't need to be complicated. The boss returned to cover soon after. There's the order to move, Yvonne didn't question and sprint toward the directed pillar, keeping her stance low in a zig-zag to minimize chance to hit. Were the enemies reloading? Probably. Would she make it easy for them to shoot at her? Hell nah.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri could barely peek above the rim of the ledge from his current position. He could see Delving and his men taking shelter inside the glowing dome-like barrier he was projecting from his sword. He was using some kind of gaudy looking claymore. The men under his wing were all wearing metal breastplates, but inside the barrier, they were beyond his reach. One of them appeared to be having a hard time breathing, and another was leveling his musket to fire at the group cross the waterway. If the swing with the hook earlier had been indication, the barrier is what had arrested his prior attempt to smack Delving in the back of his damn head. Cowardly prig was cowering behind that glowing curtain like a smug little bastard. Well, There was more than one way to deal with somebody like him--- Like trapping him over here, and forcing his pansy ass to get his hands dirty himself to get loose. And he knew JUST the way to make him do it. Timidly and very slowly, he rose from the water enough to hang over the side of the canal ledge, first the left side, to get access to the iron covering his hip and torso on that side. The heating would make a bright light, and that is unfortunate, but it may also distract Delving's goons for a moment. The heat conduction through his body would begin to boil the water still surrounding his right arm and right leg, still submerged where he was clinging to the side of the canal. This was risky shit, but it was necessary. Work was slow and difficult, due to trying to equalize the draw of material from that side of his body to avoid having a total and complete hole in the reinforcement, and due to the heat losses from partial submersion, but he commenced work on construction of a melon or large pumpkin sized "sphereoid", with a complex dimpled and form-stiffened surface from the sacrificed metal.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Aaoron counted that it had been ten minutes of grueling stalemate. Stalemate, the word itself felt exaggerated. Those imbeciles barely held their ground; they were helpless, desperately hiding behind the pillar like a cornered rat. Even then, he thought about an alternative plan. Something his brother had taught him but he kept forgetting. But that day in the office had given him a valuable lesson, to always come prepared, and be introspective. And that had served him well today. That elven woman was no ordinary archer and the amount of destruction she could dish out in a single spell was staggering. But again, he had come prepared, this protection spell will not fail him. This was his signature, one that he had honed over the years. While his father always had a bias toward the old adage that the best defense is the good defense, his brother had told him everyone was born with different gifts, and he should just be himself and improve what he was good at. In the middle of his self-admiring, the constable saw something was steaming in the murky water below. He stepped forward to peer at it and found that pesky tutor hanging for dear life on the rim not far from him and his men. He was holding a glowing metal sphere. Whatever it was, it revealed his figure rather clearly "You! Sailor," he commanded, and the best shooter in the group responded. He lowered his musket, and Aaron only needed to point at the hanging nuisance below. "Put one between his eyes! The rest of you stay on your targets" And he fired. Henri's head jerked backward, indicating a bullet hitting its mark. Smiling, Aaron expected the tutor to slip down and lost in the filthy stream, but he was not dead yet. He glanced at them with one eye missing and full of vengeance. "So, my brother was correct." He gripped his sword tightly and with his left hand, spread some of the light onto his breastplate. His heart raced, but not in fear. Anticipation! He was ready to pay back the humiliation he suffered that afternoon. "Come here if you dare, you renegade!"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "I think not, Lord Constable Dickweed. So far, I count about 5 shots. How many do you have left? Why don't you drop that shiny little dome you are cowering behind, and come join me for a swim? Surely, one more piece of shit could not possibly pollute the river further." Henri smiled viciously in the warm amber glow of the metal sphere, and continued his work. He positively SEETHED inside, thinking he had unintentionally tipped off the investigation to this sniveling little dog of a man, who cowered like a frightened puppy, practically wetting himself in his brother's presence. His opinion of who's head he would like to liberate from their shoulders changed identity. He would very much like to make this little shit squeal like the pig he was. To think, this little oaf of a man was one of the "Geniuses" behind the abduction of his ward, the erstwhile prince he had grown so fond of for his pluck and wit. "Or are you afraid that you might get grime and dirt underneath those perfectly manicured little nails of yours? Clearly, never seen an honest day's work in their lives--Oh-- Or perhaps, since you're so salty, that you might melt? Hmm? Funny, how little rats like you always come for the cheese, isn't it Lord Delving? What's the matter, your big brother too busy to do his own dirty work today? Or does he not know where you are right now? Quite the pity." He dunked the sphere into the water, where it hissed and sizzled, then filled it most of the way full with the fouled river water, then heated only the top part to seal it closed. "I even went so far as to make you a little present. SOME of us pay attention when we read things in the library, and got promoted to the royal court on MERIT, instead of who their daddy fucked. Oh, I am quite sure you paid a lot of money for that gaudy little pig-sticker you have, but I MADE my shell-- ALL. BY. MY. SELF. Now, I feel I must part company, Lord Dipshit. I have a tunnel to collapse." Henri then spread his core into the metal of the sphere, then willed it to soar into the air and nestle into the masonry above, seeking a stony overhang to tuck it behind, before slipping back into the water with a sploosh, leaving just his hand exposed through the water. He began heating the canister. He rather hoped delving would become so furious that he would drop the barrier and storm at him-- He'd pull that little prig into the drink with him and drown him right then and there.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Wh-what'dya mean ther' lady! We know nuffin' bout no hunting ground, ain't that right Ingmar?" The first man stammered very suspiciously as his eyes darted to the exit of the room behind Matilda, before back to the orc knight. "Very much so! It's against the law, yennow? We're all law abiding citizens 'ere! Long live the king and all, aye!" The second man nodded a tad too vigorously, already inching backward so that he's a bit further to Matilda compared to the first. If the situation wasn't so urgent, these two probably could've make some hilarious comical duo.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Despite the wrinkles on his face becoming more apparent, Aaron remained unflinching. Sure his pride was bruised from the south and from the west. Coward, crooked, traitor. Some were warranted and some were not, he didn't care, he swallowed them all whole because this tactic was his own tactic, and he knew its strength and weakness. His decision to hold the line seemed to pay off when he saw four of his men arrive from the northwest tunnel. That elf peeked from her cover to shoot at the regrouping soldier but his sergeant's shield deflected the arrow and thus allowed his part to safely enter the barrier. Deep down, Aaron was relieved it wasn't an explosive one. "So what now?" He shouted. "What now you dipshit! I will have you all buried! And you can hide or face your judgment! Go on and make my day! Useless piece of filth! Do your worst!" "Oh, you bet I will! I even went so far as to make you a little present." Barked the inhuman tutor mockingly, still hanging on the edge of the floor. "SOME of us pay attention when we read things in the library, and got promoted to the royal court on MERIT, instead of who their daddy fucked. Oh, I am quite sure you paid a lot of money for that gaudy little pig-sticker you have, but I MADE my shell-- ALL. BY. MY. SELF. Now, I feel I must part company, Lord Dipshit. I have a tunnel to collapse." Looking up, Aaron glanced at the red, spherical metal things hovering near the ceiling closer to the entrance, right above their head. How that thing could have gotten there and since when? Whatever it was, it didn't matter. He had his barrier. Still focused on the lingering danger, the navy shooter reloaded and aimed his weapon at Henri, but the Royal Tutor let go of his grip and splooshed back into the water with one hand still erected at the surface. Aaron watched how that metal sphere glows brighter, but then, another unexpected thing came; a fletched shaft with a glowing tip flew from the south and hit the sphere. Violent explosion shook that tunnel, shattering the wooden frame that supports the middle entrance and its surrounding masonry. Pieces of concrete and other debris started to fall from the collapsing ceiling, filling the passage until it was completely shut. But it wasn't all. A splash of warm and rancid mud befell them, the barrier might have eased up the temperature, but it was still crap, and he was full of it, now inside out and Aaron was wide awake when that humiliation occurred. The constable coughed, swiping blood and a handful of black mud from his nose. The barrier remained undaunted however, in fact, it glowed even brighter... only for a few moments after. That instant strengthening had cost him a great deal of energy and imposed a heavy strain on his body. When the barrier began to shrink, Aaron knew he was in deep trouble. A bit too late for that, really. "Men! Retreat now!" It was the sentence he never imagined he would say.</s>

<|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan was still on crouching ready to fire position between Kaito's and Jazdia's pillar, having a blind spot from Delving's musketeers and could peek the right side if he is ready to shoot his arrow. He quickly covered his ears when Henri made an explosion. The area began darker as the lits got weaken. When Delving's group began to retreat he quickly drawn his yumi again. Unfortunately, he can't make a call for a shot since everyone from the other side became a silhouette figures and his Ki is out of the range. Sighed and stood up with his feet. He checked the condition of the rest of the party. He kept cautious and kept his awareness active from the party's surroundings. Still with his yumi but will change to melee when it's clear.</s>

<|description|>Kagetane Chounan Species: Human Gender: Male Age: Around Early 20s Height: 165 cm Appearance: People only heard him on early and during the war, no one knows who he is except the king, prince and king's military personals. They describe his appearances unique and odd along with other knights. It was a iron-clad with a different design, an odd looking headwear with a pair of horned attached, the facewear resembled as a demonic looking. He fought savagely with a multi type of weapon in the heat of the battle. Without an armor, he is wearing kimono and hakama. He has a medium skin tone, handsome facial, shouldered length black hair that always tied as ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. Bio: He came from the land of Samurai. An only son of the defeated daimyo that fled to the nation along with his mother. With an unfortunate event, the ship they ridden capsized by a tidal wave. He was only the one that had been recovered from the shore of Kindeance. He entered his service at 16 years old from the lowest to the knight of the field. On his skirmishes he gained his nickname of The Horned Ironclad Demon. Adapted with various type of weapon in the heat of battlefield, matching enemies from one against the hundred, he fought savagely and brought fear to the opposing side. He took many of the heads of suspected superiors on opposing side to the king. A samurai way to proven himself as useful fighter. He served loyally to the king and developed a close bond to the young prince. After his service. He became a member of the Adventurer's Guild. Rose up the rumors about him as he keep soloing the high difficulty quests. When the event came by, he received a special quest straight from the top, which is the king himself. He accepted it because he knew he was trustworthy and capable to doing this special task and the young prince was involved on this event. The ronin attended the king along with the unfamiliar new faces. Skillset and spells: Mononofu: The way of the samurai. Compatible with various samurai weapons and mentally focus during the battlefield. Gaining almost perfect Hit rate and has an immunity against mental debuff. When mounted, gains high ground advantages along with the compatible weapons. Ki:a natural energy given off by people and objects when they move. It exists separate from mana. Ki-sensing can be used to predict attacks and others' movement, including natural objects and events found in nature. Perfect counter: Deflecting melee and physical projectiles. Counter and re-counter counter attacks. Equipment: Personal horse, samurai armor set and samurai weapons, adventurer bag, convenient consumable stuffs for traveling and a tea set. Others: He is an experience fighter with quick reaction time and have a sharper instinct than an average. He is also light footed. He likes tea and love to promote his cuisine as he is good on cooking.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "So it is either they are not really aware of what happened in Pesti, or simply trying to keep us out of their city..." There was a powerful mage warding the entire place. That explained the curtain and anti-scrying magic deployed in Fanghorn. Once again the unconventional agent had proven his worth. Unlike Matilda and-- When Jazdia busied herself contemplating a certain orc captain, she heard a ping on her communication device. Huh, it seemed the commpass was not as damaged as she had imagined. "Yes, come in!" At first, it was a distorted voice akin to a dying chipmunk. "Is this-- yiikk working? Hello? ---- wiikkk yiikkkkHello? ----" "I cannot hear you. Grip the device tightly then speak." Oh finally! Whoever designed this need to get a spanking, I swear." Oh, she would be more than happy to deliver the feedback on this obsolete piece of junk to Old Man Anderson himself just for the fun of it. But that could wait. "Cut the chatter, Miss Yvonne. What's happening over there?" "Short version, it all went to shit. I think Matilda got a face-full of explosives, she's got shrapnel all over." "Is she dead? Currently unconscious again, but she got some scrying orders out to missus Verny here. Supposedly prince's in Fanghorn. For sure this time. Small fort on a hill, there's stone wall, village attached next to it, in view of the river yeah? He's in the garret up there. "The description matches, yes. What to do now, boss?" "First is to make sure you are clear to move out from Pesti. How is the situation over there? How many of them you are dealing with, and who are they? The prince can wait. We are currently on our way to provide you with some assistance."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Uncanning Matilda was surprisingly easier than expected. Some of the screws were tightened beyond normal means to remove, but a bit of extra juice and it twisted out just fine. Then it's a matter of removing the plates off the orc. Some part didn't look pretty of course, and by that Yvonne meant the mounted crossbow, but eh. Mattie will not have any problem getting replacement. "Kindean mercenaries, they're paid to guard the mysterious cargo by a shell company. Their leader was caught in the explosion, and unfortunately he didn't have plate armor to protect himself. We scattered the rest of the company, about twenty or so. Amateurs, got no armor and a few weapons. Dont think they'll rally but who knows, I'd rather not stick around." Now that their situation was reversed, it's not impossible for a strike from the dark to inflict damage in a moment of carelessness. Even with Verny's darksight. "Say, if you're coming here maybe get the cart we hid earlier? Ain't no way to move Mattie on a horse. Ah, would be great if our bear can leg it faster too."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Meanwhile in Rasacade, on the same frigid dawn, Fredrucus stood at his palace's highest section, watching his city spring to life. Though there was a lockdown and a threat of war, people didn't seem troubled by it. Shops were open, with or without customers, and streets, though somewhat sparse, were still populated by shoppers and common citizens alike. Kindean people were hard workers and his father's decision to reform the country was a no-brainer move. His father, King Jonas was a very strict and paranoid man. Though a visionary leader, he trusted nobody unless there was a stake to keep his allies stayed in line. There was no occasion for him to go without deploying a full platoon on his itinerary and there was some occasion when those who breached the security code got mercilessly executed. At one point in his life, Fredricus believed it was due to the rough upbringing caused by his warmongering grandfather who didn't take the defeat of Kindence after a Ten Years war very well, and now at some point he still did. The alliance between the royal family and noble clans was built on fragile associations. It was a legacy from his father, but he did not blame him. Jonas was always a role father and leader to him, but Fred had no desire to be the copy of his predecessors. Instead of brandishing fear and intimidation, he chose to be practical and understanding. In exchange for their loyalty, he distributed power to those clans. A sign of trust, and promoting them to take their part to make this country prosper. It worked for so many years and to think someone would break this status quo had made him enraged. Even more so when his spy reported that one of the Delving whelps was caught sneaking from his tomb. He had to take refuge in the highest pinnacle of his castle to cool his head off. The scheme their orchestrated was not that surprising, but they did the extra mile to desecrate his father's resting place as well. Right in the most critical times. Only animals are capable of doing such preposterous things. The noise of heavy climbing steps causes Fred to draw his sword and spin around. He was a king, but make no mistake, the aging monarch was still capable of personally lopping off a traitor's head from their treacherous shoulder. "Your highness..." Despite having a blade pointed at him, his chamberlain astutely knelt. For someone who just experienced a rude awakening that highlighted his vulnerability, it did ease Fredricus' nerve a bit. "... I bring news from Squire Anderson, they have finished the search on the tunnels, and found the body of the Black Serpent Guild Master Gerrald, as his highness requested." Fredricus sheathed his sword. "What about Henri?" "They didn't find him." "So what the heck did they find? What about the weapons?" "Indeed His Highness, the soldiers found the weapon stash. It says the amount was enough to arm at least two and a half thousand people. The place seemed to have been abandoned just recently." "Seemed just recently?" the king glared tensely. So Jazdia's report was true. there was a potential rebellion hiding under his feet. Nearly losing a grip on his trademark calmness, Fredricus blared. "Who dares to do that?" "I beg your pardon, His Highness. I do not now, simply relayed what the squire said." "And what are the fates of those contrabands?" "The royal guards are still transporting the crates as we speak." The monarch sighed. Clearly, there was no way Delving could plan all of this by themselves. He must have supporters, other nobles, and clans to cover their backs. It felt like everyone was turning against him and he could no longer differentiate between his own allies. Could he trust Matilda? Where was his son? Was there anyone in this country that doesn't want him dead? Could he even trust his own chamberlain? "The body of the aforementioned individual had been secured by Madam Antigne and her team, His highness." the chamberlain reported, again his timing could not be any better. at least it was something else Fred could divert his attention to. If chance allows, he would go down to the wizard's laboratory right now and commended Antigone to use whatever spell to make the dead sing. But right now he doesn't want to act brash. He could imagine how those pesky nobles would mock him behind his back for using testimony from a talking corpse as sole evidence-- no, he will need another piece to connect the dots, and he expected his hirelings to bring him just that. "Very Good. Summon the Squire at ten o'clock. I want to hear the full report from him. Dismissed!" "As you wish, my liege."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Local mercenaries? Who hired them? And for what purpose?" Jazdia soon realized that half of her message was lost in transmission, probably colliding and overpowered by Yvonne's incoming message. "Say, if you're coming here maybe get the cart we hid earlier? Ain't no way to move Mattie on a horse. Ah, would be great if our bear can leg it faster too." "The bear is not with us. It would take some time to refit the cart with one of our horses. I can do that for you, but if you want to depart quickly, I suggest you look for another transport in that village. Hang tight, we will be there for one hour! It seemed the diplomatic approach is no longer viable from your end. You are free to defend yourself, but keep the body count at a minimum, yeah? Do you still want me to bring the cart or not?"</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito and the others continued their way towards Pesti. What started as a rescue mission for the prince seemed to evolve into a rescue mission of the other teammates. But that is kinda the shit that happens when you walk into an obvious trap. From what the fox could hear of Jazdia's conversation, it sounded like a shit show going down at Pesti. The kitsune turned his head once more towards their team leader. ""Any relevant information coming down the line about what we can expect when we arrive?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Unnamed local mercenary," The connection was so bad whatever was said from Yvonne's side was still on hold, so she turned to Kaito instead. "Rings any bell? I believe they were not part of Miss Noble's company. Their leader got injured by the explosion, so the situation is a complete mess over there. A misunderstanding I reckon, and considering nobody was trying to defuse the situation, we should at least expect pitchforks and torches. Classic!" She waited for a moment. Still no reply from Yvonne yet. "Say, I am wondering if Matilda brought an important trinket with her, something that indicates her service in the small circle around the king himself. I am sure the investigation would be a lot easier if that was the case."</s>

<|message|>Kagetane Chounan As the Mercenaries freaked out from Yvonne's terror, he put off his combat stance and signal Veronica that the area is cleared with his hand signs. He went straight to Yvonne and Matilda hurriedly to give them a hand. Chounan offer Yvonne a hand to disarmed their party leader's heavy armor so that they could bring Mathilda in safer without a heavy burden armor.</s>

<|description|>Kagetane Chounan Species: Human Gender: Male Age: Around Early 20s Height: 165 cm Appearance: People only heard him on early and during the war, no one knows who he is except the king, prince and king's military personals. They describe his appearances unique and odd along with other knights. It was a iron-clad with a different design, an odd looking headwear with a pair of horned attached, the facewear resembled as a demonic looking. He fought savagely with a multi type of weapon in the heat of the battle. Without an armor, he is wearing kimono and hakama. He has a medium skin tone, handsome facial, shouldered length black hair that always tied as ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. Bio: He came from the land of Samurai. An only son of the defeated daimyo that fled to the nation along with his mother. With an unfortunate event, the ship they ridden capsized by a tidal wave. He was only the one that had been recovered from the shore of Kindeance. He entered his service at 16 years old from the lowest to the knight of the field. On his skirmishes he gained his nickname of The Horned Ironclad Demon. Adapted with various type of weapon in the heat of battlefield, matching enemies from one against the hundred, he fought savagely and brought fear to the opposing side. He took many of the heads of suspected superiors on opposing side to the king. A samurai way to proven himself as useful fighter. He served loyally to the king and developed a close bond to the young prince. After his service. He became a member of the Adventurer's Guild. Rose up the rumors about him as he keep soloing the high difficulty quests. When the event came by, he received a special quest straight from the top, which is the king himself. He accepted it because he knew he was trustworthy and capable to doing this special task and the young prince was involved on this event. The ronin attended the king along with the unfamiliar new faces. Skillset and spells: Mononofu: The way of the samurai. Compatible with various samurai weapons and mentally focus during the battlefield. Gaining almost perfect Hit rate and has an immunity against mental debuff. When mounted, gains high ground advantages along with the compatible weapons. Ki:a natural energy given off by people and objects when they move. It exists separate from mana. Ki-sensing can be used to predict attacks and others' movement, including natural objects and events found in nature. Perfect counter: Deflecting melee and physical projectiles. Counter and re-counter counter attacks. Equipment: Personal horse, samurai armor set and samurai weapons, adventurer bag, convenient consumable stuffs for traveling and a tea set. Others: He is an experience fighter with quick reaction time and have a sharper instinct than an average. He is also light footed. He likes tea and love to promote his cuisine as he is good on cooking.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Making a second pass along the outside of the keep, monitoring the growth of his latest handiwork, the sounds of fighting erupted from the desecrated first floor dining hall, followed by a loud rhythmic banging. "... the hells 'em kids a doin' in'ere .." the bear grumbled irritably. Saying he was 'put out' by all this was a gross understatement; while he did his best to be chipper and jovial most of the time, he HAD inherited more than just a little of his dad's crude and volatile temperament-- being tortured with food, then being made a mockery of by planting him in it, then being tossed like a sack of manure, then forcing him to have to wear his own piss to evade having his lungs seared, then being nearly blasted by friendly fire had left him more than just a little cross, and the absurd and persistent clanging mixed with the shouts and screams of the villagers to the south had him in a rather foul mood indeed. He looked in through one of the fouled windows and saw that thuggish brute still swinging in there, with a bucket on his head with a seemingly animated hammer drumming on it, making a terrible racket. It *WAS* a humorous spectacle, but he was so over this guy. Then he remembered the diabolical thought he had intended for the muscle-bound bruiser. 'Hoy!' He shouted in through the window, while ripping the decayed and crispy black vegetation from the opening. "Shove 'at fuck'r o'er dis a way!" He grinned wickedly, allowing his malign intent to color the expression with a lurid intensity, while beckoning his companions to drive the bastard toward the cleared window.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- The keep shook, more so than it has recently. Whatever the explosion origin was, be it Jazdia or another trick of Asevor, it was enough to finally clear out the undead on the first floor. The corrosive properties of the acidic fog and the final shock wave of the blast was enough to finally halt Bartholomew. The flame on his head smoldered down in deep red before completely extinguishing, whatever power holding his body together diminishing along with it. They pieces clattered as they fell apart. Those of his recently raised regiment also collapsed, leaving Solomon with no touch among those in the keep. Luckily, those among the second floor were untouched as was his connection with August. However, he could see out of the window to just what extent Asevor's men were going to deal with the continuously growing plant life. The corners of the sill glowed orange as fire competed with the morning sun to light the halls. So close to the wooden walls and that of the thatched village houses, they risked setting the village itself on fire. A prospect Solomon suspected August would propagate. At this point, there wasn't much Solomon could do for those outside of the keep. He let August continue to grow the brambles as the roots remained safe from the flames above, routing mana and energy around to not lose the energy from the charred remains. After the brief glimpse outside, Solomon witnessed Asevor as he approached the sealed room through the hall. Of course the ruined staircase was no obstacle. Asevor's hands began crafting a spell. This time, Solomon could recognize the tesseract as the energy flowed from Asevor into his construct. From behind, Solomon reappeared from the shadows stepping silently upon the wooden boards. He needed to do something before the spell could be cast. A quick flash of magic Solomon stared intently from underneath his hood. Dagger hold. It would be of no surprise if Asevor was equipped with a magic trinket or enchantment prepared to deal with the spell. Ideally, it would completely stop Asevor in his tracks, his less than youthful figure unable to break free from it causing him pain and discomfort if he tried. However, even if the spell broke, the goal was to halt him. Much like how Solomon provided a brief window for his allies with Ragnar. If he could make him slip with his spell and break the concentration, it might be enough. By now Asevor was aware of much of what Solomon could contribute to the hindrance of his plans. His only answer so far seemed to be that purge spell. Perhaps Solomon could abuse that. At the very least, he needed to stop Asevor one way or another. He knew something either about the prince and or prospect of war between Kindeance and Meche. What that was lied with either Asevor or what lay in that sealed room. At the same time as the cast of dagger hold, another ghostly figure would have emerged from where Asevor was traveling. Violet, the pure white grown woman of uncomfortable physique hovered in the middle of the hall. Her arms with long sharp nails at the ends of her long cracked fingers out stretched. She opened her mouth full of rotting and misaligned teeth. Without inhaling, Violet lurched forward as visible sound waves escaped her maw. The paintings along the walls swung on their pegs. Anything glass or ceramic cracked and shattered. The piercing shriek continued as the volume and pitch increased. This close to the banshee, the scream would be enough to burst the ear drums of the listener, even knock unconscious. Outside the keep, the piercing scream was clear, the stone wall doing little to mute the noise. Solomon himself would be caught within the shriek, his undead form more easily dealing with the after effects than that of the living.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The elf stopped, the dust had settled for God knows how many times already in this ransacked room, and it revealed the enraged northlander, alive and approaching them in desperate gait. As someone who studied practical magic, Jazdia wondered about the cost that man had to pay to be able just to stand right now, and how long it would be able to keep him together if left alone. She decided to not find out, the black bow was drawn, and the arrowhead was now programmed and filled by its explosive magic. However, as soon as she aimed for his center mass, the Berserker's movement suddenly became erratic. A quick observation told her that Kaito was behind all of that cruel yet whimsical prank; a tubular conjuration now encasing Ragnar's head, and despite the heavy doping spell, the illusion was apparently perceived so real Ragnar instinctively had his voice muffled as well. Should she feel bad for it? Her bow had been relieved from its temporal tension, and the glowing arrow on Ragnar's chest said she didn't really care. What she did care about was when the pale lady positioned herself near the rampaging brute, anticipating his movement and preparing herself for what she predicted would be a series of heavy melee slashes. "Get away from him!" Jazdia shouted.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Whatever Ragnar was expecting, a literal bucket on his head and some hideously loud clanging noise was not on the list. The northlander roared in anger as he clawed and failed to even touch the offending object, rendering him near-completely blind and deaf to what's going on around him. The axe in his hand cleaved with abandon, catching the blackened table a couple times but otherwise failed to get remotely close to any of his foes. "WHAT TRICKERY IS THIS?! FACE ME BLADE TO BLADE!" He wouldn't get his wish. Both Chounan and Veronica caught the warning and steered clear, a gleaming arrow landing dead center on Ragnar's chest. another explosion consumed the berserker, momentarily staggering him with concussive shockwave. The vampiress didn't miss the moment as she rushed back in, braving the remnant of the explosion to deliver a single strike to their foe. The scythe tore through Ragnar's crimson aura like hot knife through butter, plunging through the heart where the weapon keened with greed. Yet her eyes widened as the man still refused to drop, brawny arm grabbing the scythe and refusing to let go. She had to abandon the weapon to avoid an axe blow, staring with morbid amazement at the sheer resilience of the brute. "Finally! Slippery bastard." The scythe was torn out, splatter of blood unnaturally following and flowing into it. The crimson aura coating him thickened to the point that it's veritably opaque now, looking less like a man and more like a creature made out of blood. The illusory bucket and hammer sizzled and faded upon contacting this seemingly enhanced layer, though from the sounds of it the man underneath wasn't doing very well at all. Ragnar rampaged forward, Veronica and Chounan pushed further and further as he seemingly beelined to the elf. The vampiress seemed to do okay, but the swordsman's skin started to blister the longer he's locked in close combat with the brute. It was through sheer willpower that he kept blocking the way, deflecting and parrying with blood flowing through his palm. Above, Asevor was unceremoniously ambushed in joint attack - something that he did not expect, considering his invisibile state. Pain seized him all of sudden, stopping his hand in place, followed by an inhuman screech so terrible the old man actually blacked out for a moment. "ARGH! You dare-!" Another protective ring started to crack, purging the magical influence of the scream and the hold. The false archmage was swift in tapping in another of his ring, soft layer of healing light fixing his burst eardrum though it did little to the blood that had dripped out. More pressingly, the tesseract was halfway unraveling by the time he regained his faculty. He willed it to collapse in that state, the purge barely a tenth as potent or widespread as it should, but enough to buy a little time. A spell construct flowed into the mental mold, finishing in record time as for the first time today Asevor actually felt threatened to some extent. An unfocused bluish-white beam of arcane energy howled through the corridor, blasting Solomon and his latest banshee summon before colliding hard enough to crack the far wall of the fort. Breathing rapidly, the old man hurriedly grasped for his necklace... only to find that the undead caster that ambushed him were still nearby somewhere. Turning with paranoia to the floors and walls and ceiling, Asevor immediately decided to bolt up and toward the battlement. Out in the open, he'll have a lot more options. Otherwise it would be putting the cart before the horse if he accidentally buried himself in this godforsaken fort. At the antechamber below, Kaito would find the dead baron and a few more dead servants mixed in a pile of rubble that once was a staircase but now ruined and collapsed by explosion. Getting up... probably will take some effort. And was likely unsafe. But what choice did he have?</s> <|message|>"Cedar" The mischievous grin quickly turned into a snarl, though the difference may have been hard to detect, aside from some furrowing between the eyes, and the ears going flat. Why was it nobody listened to him? He looked around irritably looking for something, anything concrete to contribute to this predicament. The bucket illusion had been singularly effective, for however long it lasted, which gave him an idea. Hurriedly, he dropped the piss soaked curtain to the ground, then furiously heaped it full of dirt and mud mixed with wads of grass from the ground, bundled it up like a sling, backed away from the window to get room to whirl around, Began whirling, then yelled through the window: "Hey fuck'r! CATCH!" A split second later, he released one side of the curtain, discharging the contents through the window toward his target.</s>

<|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan made a momentum, breathing technique and adjusted his footwork and unleashed a barrage of slashes just what he did to the champion wolf. His ki is overflowing, it's like a blazing flame the flowing from the burning. A godspeed slashes while moving so faster than a naked eye, inflicting cutting slashes in every direction. Surpassing his limits might bring this berserker to an end.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. After being dismissed by His Highness and heading into the reception room, Henri leaned and whispered to Matilda as she reached the door. "Please introduce me to them in my stead, I have things to obtain first." He then proceeded to walk in a different direction than the rest. From this action, it would not be wrong to guess that Henri doesn't exactly approve of this team, possibly going so far as to believing that he could do this task on his own. Yet, he also knew that he wasn't exactly outward with his abilities, and wasn't even considered for this task until he personally asked for it. It might be too early to have notions of splitting away from them just yet. --- In front of the door of the Royal Mage's office. He knocks. "It's Henri. I need spells." Quite the curt request.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan "I'll fetch up my prepared things from smith shop. Where are we gather to departure, Dame Matilda?" The black haired man with a demon mask and oriental attire finally speak with a calm tone of voice.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] The door to the office creaked outward, opening without any visible mechanism to reveal an... office. It had no window, with a mahogany bookshelf much larger than the door itself occupying every inch of the far wall. The desk of the Royal Mage was L-shaped that hugged the wall before abruptly turning to slice through the room, filled with various parchment with partially finished arcane scribbles and whatnot. It stood mere three feet from the door, and considering the arrangement of chairs already occupying space it left not much room for "guests" to stand at. Instead there's plenty of gap between the desk and the bookshelf where a haggard middle-aged woman in dark dress sat. Her own chair was obviously custom made, puffy and soft with leather cover and adjustable back and footrest. The entire edifice was tilted nearly ninety degree backward, where the groaning mage slowly straightened up as she took stock at the tutor. "Ser Henri, please take a seat. How may I assist you today?" Well-oiled clank subtly echoed as the sinfully comfortable chair straightened, allowing a full view of dark eyebags underneath bloodshot eyes. Days of running around performing various augury hadn't been kind to Duchess Antigone Steinwall, though her commitment to the crown outweighted back pain and sleep deprivation. Still, there's only so much a single woman could do.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The elven woman closed the door behind her with a fair amount of respect she could muster, deciding it would be in everyone's best interest to not anger the poor Fredricus even more by slamming the door. The chamberlain, however, looked very surprised when he saw her, showing a mix of confusion and fear as he scurried back to the King's chamber and make audible door noises in his entry. A series of angry yellings could be faintly heard afterward. Still leaning against the wooden railing, Jazdia observed the main hall below and focused her attention on the group. She saw a very pale man leaving the premises after exchanging words with the King's trusted Knight. Not a very... fleshy fella. Prosthetic? Animated doll? Golem? Before she managed to investigate further, the man had already headed to the east wing, far beyond the range of her vision. Investigate. She repeated the word under he breath. Looking at the records she swiped from Fredricus's desk and matching them with the personas below, Jazdia would soon find few of those documents were lamentable at best even an intern in the Delta Two could do better. Some track records were lacking, and the details about family, origin, and analysis, many were left blank. No one, for instance, bothered to type out the detail that two of the invitees were a decaying old man devoid of any living energy... and the other was a half-stone man. They, however, had a very thorough report about the druid, who apparently was not just a bipedal bear but also an offshoot offspring of an unholy union between an intelligent bear and a druid. They detained him a few weeks earlier and had him released just recently. The report somehow made Jazdia recall one of the bizarre accounts her apprentice Linea testified when she returned from a rescue mission in a remote misty village 10 years ago. Two other hirelings apparently had a certain connection with the royal court. The small woman was a scion of a failed clan, who might or might not have retained its status had this child didn't dwell too much in the art of severing heads and limbs and mindless carnage. The other guy, wearing oriental-styled armor, was an ex-royal knight, but for whatever reason took early retirement to join the Adventurers' Guild. He claimed to be a close friend of the king, but according to the report, did not present when the king was attacked, nor when a certain group ambushed and kidnapped the Prince. The reason for his absence was unknown. See, this was one of the glaring mistakes she mentioned earlier. This whole report lacked any presumptions of motive. A good intelligence service realized that it was their job to find the worst in every human being, to find a potential threat and a way to subdue it regardless of the accuracy of the allegation. There were too many unknowns in this report Jazdia partially believed it was filled by the invitees themselves. Jazdia normalized the color of her eyes and took a series of very regulated breaths as she walked down the stairs to regroup with everyone, not sure if any of them saw her on the balcony, but she greeted them regardless. "Greetings!"</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri's eyebrow raised as he saw Antigone's face. It's like she hasn't slept for a week. "Antigone... I mean Duche-- Egh, I'm not used to formalities. I'm sorry." Henri enters and takes the seat, cautious to not hit anything in this narrow space for he wouldn't be able to feel something break until it's too late. "I would like to borrow a book with as many spells in it as possible... so as to not be a burden to the rest." If it's her, then she most likely knows this mission of theirs even if kept in utmost secrecy. "I'd ask whether you augured our success but you look like you've already done far too much auguring. If only I'm in a position to order you to take a rest..."</s>

<|message|>Kaito The taverns of Rascade we're buzzing with people and the ale was flowing like never before. There was tension in the air and rumors on the street. People spoke of soldiers being stationed at the border with Meche and gossip on the street was that something had gone down at the royal palace. Some whispered that there soon will be war again while others spoke of an assasination attempt on the king. Nobody knows for sure but on the tables of the taverns theories run wild. The wildest theory Kaito had heard was that some royal brat was kidnapped. There wasn't much to go on really as it wasn't even clear what brat from what royal house was snatched. One could assume that it was the king's son but the source was some bandits that mostly operated in the border regions. Not to mention that the leader of the group was known to tell bullshit stories all the time. The only thing that the Kitsune found intriguing about this whole affair was the fact that those bandits were quickly apprehended before their story could spread. It was a busy day in The Black Swan tavern and Inn, one of the finest establishments in the city of Rascade and a popular place for the upper class to gather. A place for merchants and lords alike to enjoy some of the finest food and drinks you could find in the capital. And yet this classy place was one of Kaito's most favorite hunting grounds The fox had gathered a fine group of wealthy men around the table for a friendly game of cards. All fine lads of reputable status but questionable morality. There was Lord Baltimore Dawney who starved his peasants half to death in order to squeeze more coin out of his estate. Next to him sat mister Ridgeway, a slave trader and last but not least was there was mister Conway, a wealthy landowner who runs a number of plantations and relies on mister Ridgeway to supply him with the laborers. As Kaito shuffled the cards the men all bragged about their fortunes. Boasted about their lavish lifestyles and joked about the plebs they trample under their pompous feet. It was clear that these men made their fortunes over the backs of others with a disregard for the lives of fellow men. "Damn, I lost again" shouted Kaito with faked frustration as he threw his cards on the table. For a moment he looked around the table at his companions. Lord Baltimore Dawney certainly was having a good time, he had won already three times. Mister Ridgeway had won two times and so did mister Conway. They were all in the winning mood, the mood Kaito wanted them to have. "You want to quit? You're on a losing streak for a while now" Asked lord Baltimore. Kaito sipped from his wine and smirked. "Of Course not, the day is still young and fortunes can always change. What do you gentlemen say that we make the game a bit more interesting, minimum bet 5 gold coins?" Said Kaito as he emptied a bag of gold coins on the table and slowly placed the coins at the center of the table. Ofcourse, this was all part of the setup. First you let your win a couple of times. Just feed the belief they can win. Then you raise the stakes by increasing the minimum amount to bet while showing a big pile of cash they supposedly can win. No greedy bastard can resist such temptation. For a moment the three men at the other side of the table were silent but none could avert their eyes from what was on the table. Mister Ridgeway was the first to place his coins at the center of the table and the other two soon followed. The game was on. As Kaito shuffled the cards, he was carefully controlling who gained what cards through the use of his illusion magic, always making sure that he knew exactly who had what hand and controlling the outcome of each round. This time the kitsune made sure to give all participants strong hands and his victims quickly raised their bets. The number of gold coins at the center of the table piled up quickly. One more card to play and Kaito would be a significant amount of coin richer. What could possibly go wrong with a setup like this?</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri was simply there by the stables, sitting on the barrel he carried to there, a mere three feet next to someone's horse. He might've came here too early. He exhaled. It bored him. There was an odd lack of a stableworker today, either. Alright then, might as well do something. With the town on edge during the recent events, it was oddly quiet in these stables while he embarked in the throes of cleaning this eternally unused water barrel. His telekinesis could only keep up appearances, he needed actual water. Well, he could also use telekinesis on the water, creating a localized cyclone inside the water barrel. He then dumped the dirty water out, and rinsed it again. Nicely done. Now, for the sprinkling system... It has to be something large enough for Ceddy's paw hands to just pull up, and a diligent spray of water would pour out on the side. Henri began to carve a large rectangular shape out of the side of the barrel, then filled the carved side with steel which he then poked small two-millimeter holes onto at the lower half, alternating to form diamonds if connected. Then, he added a frame outward that would tightly hold another sheet of metal only one-third as long as the first one. This sheet can be moved up or down to seal the watering holes. Then, the last thing is to attach a small hoop to the sheet to tie a long leather rope onto, and tying the other end of it to a smooth metal ring to pull easily from the shoulder. A few more checks to see if the external sheet slides smoothly, then filling up the water barrel to make sure water stays in when closed. Pulling the sheet up creates multiple tiny streams of water, much like a watering can. Amazing. After that exciting ordeal, he's back to simply sitting on the water barrel, now with a pony harness by his feet and a Scroll of Arcane Bolts in his hand. It would seem hasty and prone to misshaping if Henri were to turn this pony harness into a backpack sling for this Ceddy, as he knows not of his measurements and might build it too small. For now, he focused on studying this scroll, which if he guessed at the mechanics, should be as simple as pooling your mana at a spot and hurling its condensed form at your enemies... He wouldn't know until he tried, though. It's not safe to test this scroll in this area. Jazdia, huh... Where has he heard that name before? It's quite the unique name, but he couldn't pinpoint from where.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark 2:10 P.M. Rascade city outskirt, Kingdom of Kindeance. Once a bustling hub of commerce, this town was now rarely seen by outsiders. The rumor of imminent war and their recent policy to tighten their border control had made most people steer clear. No longer merchant flocks and the ship docks in their street and harbor, causing the economy to stall considerably. People didn't seem to be troubled by it, however. Maybe because the lockdown was just announced five days ago and a dent in the kingdom's economy was barely felt. With the help of the swordmaster Chounan guiding them through the city maze and alleys, the trio finally arrived at the... less sophisticated part of the city. A ghetto if you may, but don't let the average citizen hear you saying that. Those Nouveau Riche would gasp in horror before telling you that you are an imbecile and there was no such thing in this prosperous city. The others, however, would nod to that notion and blame that on the influx of immigrants from their neighbor Meche who then formed their own destitute community, giving a stain on the face of their great city. With discrimination and prejudice becoming more rampant these days, who could really blame them? Their destination was a very busy middle-class tavern named The Black Swan. Which, based on Jazdia's analytic mind, had positioned itself cleverly on the market. As long as they have thirst and coin, everyone was welcomed, from nobles to paupers, immigrants, travelers, and natives alike. And while this gave a sense of inclusivity, it systematically encourage its patrons to flaunt their wealth for everyone to see. Really, it was not showing off if you couldn't rub it in someone's face, and this tavern facilitated you to go wild with your petty ego. Still, it was a tavern. Information circulates as much as coins and drinks. Coins lure all kinds of people including those with dishonest hearts and scheming minds who sedulously taking the advantage of the addling nature of liquors, which needless to say didn't mix very well with one's financial acumen. Sauntering through its main hall, Jazdia fixed her sight on a room with decorated walls located on a slightly elevated floor. The so-called VIP area, reserved exclusively for those with a more prominent background they even had a well-dressed bouncer guarding the entrance. The bouncer, to their surprise, immediately welcomed them upon seeing the expensive (and gaudy) armor Chounan was wearing. Jazdia didn't even need her power to find what she was looking for. The table in the middle of the room was so loud it attracted the attention of the other patrons. There were four men, three gentlemen were obviously nobles, and the person who was shuffling the cards was an ancient being wearing heavy illusion makeup from head to toe to make himself look like a whimsical noble boy in his late teens. As the coins piled up and another round began, the noblemen watched with sneer and anticipation. Jazdia approached the table. A foul game was at play and the victim would be these three seemingly obnoxious aristocratic gentlemen. She was rather undecided if she should intervene. Placing her hand between two invisible fox ears, the elf decided that she just need some fluff to ruffle. Whatever happened next was up to chance... as any gambling should. "Are ya winning, son?"</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito was so focussed on playing his victims that he did not notice the three people closing in from behind. It was only in the moment that Jazdia put her hand on his head that the kitsune noticed the presence of that elf. Just hearing her voice sends shivers down his spine and for a moment Kaito loses his concentration on his elaborate web of illusions revealing his fluffy fox tail for just a split second. Although the kitsune was sure that the men across the table would not notice, the two friends of Jazdia's might. Kaito always felt a certain tension, nervousness when Jazdia was around. Maybe it was because she had the ability to see right through his illusions or maybe it was her piercing gaze that seemed to go right through to the darkest depths of your soul. Seeing those bits of you that you desperately hide far away while convincing yourself that it isn't there. He couldn't put his finger on what it was but the Kitsune knew one thing for sure, the elf knew how he felt and she was thoroughly enjoying it. It took a few seconds before he regained his composure and turned his head towards Jazdia. With a bit of an annoyed look on his face he spoke "I see you still carry the same attitude towards proper etiquette, miss.... Sparky" Not that he had expected anything different from her. If Kaito had learned one thing about Jazdia since their first encounter, it was her absolute lack of respect for any form of authority and etiquette. She would even refuse to bow in front of the gods themselves. A character trait that Kaito certainly appreciated. "Anyway, I certainly hope that I am going to win. I betted a fair deal of money on this game and don't want to explain to my father why our families coffers have shrunk a bit today. But since you're here, it is safe to assume that my presence is required at the estate, right?" Spoke Kaito as he pretended that the elf was some sort of servant of his noble house. He was sure she would understand that he was dragging her into his web of lies and could only hope that Jazdia would play along. The three men at the other side of the table were flabbergasted about the exchange. In their perception Kaito was a young nobleman that should have been addressed by a servant with the proper respect. What the elf had shown was utter contempt about etiquette to the point that a proper punishment would be in place. Yet the young master let her get off easy. The kitsune turned towards his victims again. With Jazdia here, he knew he had to wrap things up quickly. Her visits always meant business and you never knew what was cooking in her head. The pretty elf might intervene if he made her wait too long. Not to mention that she had brought two friends. Must be serious business. "Gentlemen, my apologies for the interruption. It appears that there is some business that requires my presence. This will be the final round for today. Anyone want to raise their bets?" With much anticipation the three men stared at Kaito. All were waiting for the final card to be drawn and placed open on the table. All had strong hands and were confident that they had a good chance of winning. Not to mention there was a good deal of money at stake. The kitsune slowly picked the card from the deck and placed it face down on the table. He quickly looked at the three men who all tensed up. Then Kaito revealed the card. Lord Baltimore jumped up from his seat and slammed his cards on the table in the most un-lordy fashion possible. "Go beat that!" he shouted in excitement as he revealed the second strongest combination of cards possible in the game. The two others looked at the cards that were revealed on the table and then to their own hands. The excitement drained from their face, making room for frustration. A few annoyed growls could be heard as mister Ridgeway and mister Conway accepted their defeats. Lord Baltimore was about to grab the pile of gold coins when he realized that Kaito had not yet revealed his cards. All three men turned their heads towards the kitsune who sat there just silently with a straight face. "no, you're not going to tell me that you have a royal straight, right?" spoke lord Baltimore. Then Kaito revealed his hand, card by card until a royal straight, the strongest combination of cards was laid out in front of him.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Now that there's no more need to play the stoic guard, and boss Sparky introduced them, Yvonne got a chance to quip in. She curiously stared at the surveyor's head, trying to find a hint of the illusionary ears. It was definitely still there, based on how the elf ruffled it earlier, but there's no sign at all. neat. "She's got a point there, foxy. People who made the habit gambling tend to collect other unsavory habit, like knifing someone they thought cheatin'." Though as a technically-not-legal informant, he probably knew that. And/or was confident on disentangling from such situation. Honestly, being able to change one's look would've helped immensely in that regard. Cant build infamy if you're wearing different face every con. "Anyway. Yvonne, at your service. Just your run on the mill sellsword, aye?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As his turn, he made a small bow on Keito and started to speak. "I'm Chōnan of Kagetane Clan. Gold ranking of Advenetur's Guild of Kinderance. The way you flashed your tail on the tavern. Familiar stinks smell of a fox. There is no doubt you are a kitsune. You and I came from the same origin. But that doesn't mean we still bring our rivalry between yokai and human. I'm a descendant of the shinto family who practice Onmyōdō and gave offering to yokai like you. Unfortunately, my clan lost from the clan wars, so I'm more like an exiled. Back to more important matter. Having your abilities will be a great help to our mission. Kitsune like you target the bad traits of humans, such as pride, greed, and vanity for the sake of entertainment. Can bring down even the most devout priest. Rarely attack women but prefer to possess them instead. Then, using kitsune ability, to lure an unsuspecting men to their doom. Anyway. Once we done good for the sake of the mission from time to time. I shall give you an offering. Both Shiny coin and Fried Tofu. To everyone in the party. "We should better be off. Name the place, I shall lead you guys there." Keito is indeed powerful and useful in the mission but Chōnan know what Keito's weaknesses. Cutting all the tails will make him lost his source of power and enemies from foreign land must not be underestimated. Originally, he had been keeping an eye with his instinct on the two female party members and their surroundings. Keeping his distance between Jazdia and Yvonne so he could response easily whoever on getting attacked especially inside the tavern. With additional party member, he must widen his range to respond in further. Chōnan will lead the party to designated location. He also going to share his ration to the everyone from his party. It is rice ball that handily made by himself, sticky rice formed into triangular shape with a filling of vegetable, meat and natural preservatives.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar timidly forced a smirk, before snatching another of the green fruits from the fence and snacking on it. "These'l do nicely!' He quipped between crunches. Continuing his snacking on the produce, he examined the leather harness and the barrel more closely. The barrel had been modified to have fasteners attached to it, and had a pour spout put on. 'dis aint no ord'nry barrel.. who dun gone an' work'd it up like 'at?' Regardless of who, or how, the barrel looked fit for use, and the leather harness as well.... Without speaking further, he snatched another bit of produce from the fence, shoved it in his face, then began running straps through eyelets on the barrel, before adjusting it for his girth. It would make a fine backpackable water source this way. Speaking of... this was a stable, there would HAVE to be a well to keep the horses watered. Shouldering the empty barrel, he stood upright, leaned on his staff, then looked this way and that, sniffing at the air, trying to locate the necessary water source.</s>

<|message|>Kaito There was something that concerned Kaito about this situation. Getting involved with assasination attempts on kings, foreign powers and that stuff was a few steps up from his regular work. The thing was that Jazdia didn't ask if he wanted to help her out on this job and what his price would be. No, she simply showed up with two strange warriors and stated that the kitsune was going to be enlisted. End of story, no room for objections. Kaito always knew that the elf was direct but even this felt like she had reached a new level. For a moment the fox contemplated making a fuss about this recruitment practice but ultimately decided against it. Kaito wasn't sure on why he came to that decision. For a moment he just stared at the stoic and focussed expression on Jazdia's face. Wondering what went on in her mind. Investigating the assasination attempt on the king meant that she was probably working for king Fredricus himself. That was the same man that had thrown Kaito into a deep dark dungeon with the idea to keep him there for a very long time. A punishment the king saw as fitting for the Kitsune's antics. However it was Jazdia who had the last word and managed to get him out. In return, Kaito had started to work for her. "A bit of both?" murmured Kaito as he repeated the answer Jazdia gave him earlier. Could that mean that there was some truth to the bandits' words? He looked around to see if there were no other people in the alley with pesky ears fishing for information. When he was convinced that it was just the four of them he turned towards the elf and spoke much softer. "It's his son, right? Some lowlife bandit spoke about a royal brat being kidnapped. Not sure how much of that is true, the source isn't exactly what I would call reliable. But considering you said a bit of both I figured it's not just the assasination attempt." The kitsune didn't wait for Jazdia's response as the other two people in her group started their introductions. The first one was the girl who introduced herself as Yvonne, a sellsword. Kaito had heard wild stories of a ruthless mercenary, a true psycho who killed foo and friend alike. A girl the size of a giant with a lust for murder and violence that would put a demon to shame. Where every she went, rivers of blood would flow. The infamous Yvonne 'the mad blade' Rosenving. Such stories are always a bit exaggerated but if she was truly the mad blade herself, he'd better make sure to not get on her bad side. So the Kitsune decided to ignore the fact that she had called him foxy for now. He smiled at the girl before speaking "True about the knives. That is why I prefer people with big ass longswords. Bad option for close quarters battles, too slow on the draw. Not to mention that most rich dudes wear them more for show anyway. I'm Kaito by the way." After the girl, the samurai introduced himself. Boasting his gold status as an adventurer and flaunting the basic myths about Kitsune. Kaito found it quite entertaining to listen to Chounan talking about targeting the bad traits of humans, especially pride. Something the samurai seemed to have an abundance of. Patiently he waited for the oriental warrior to finish speaking. Once he was done Kaito answered with a light bow of himself "Hashimemashite Chounan-san. Your powers of observation are truly breathtaking." Of Course that last sentence was spoken with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Chounan's remarks of offerings of fried tofu and shiny coins were amusing. Maybe he should pretend to be a god one day and start his own religion. Offer coin in exchange for miracles. Does sound as a plausible hustle and religion in general. After the exchange of pleasantries Kaito focused his attention again on Jazdia as they walked onwards. He made sure that they put a bit of difference between them and Chounan and Yvonne before whispering some of his concerns to the elf. "This investigation is supposed to be secret, right? Chounan is a rather conspicuous fellow. He will draw attention wherever we go in the three kingdoms." The kitsune paused a bit as he realized that Jazdia would most likely be thinking the same. "The girl" Kaito continued. "Is that the psycho kid from the Rosenving family? That girl that ran away and left a trail of bodies wherever she went?" The fox could see this investigation becoming complicated very quickly, especially if they would end up in Meche. Then getting unwanted attention or having situations escalate would be a very bad thing. "Anyway," spoke Kaito in a more noticeable tone. "The assasination attempt is the talk of the town at the moment. Lots of people are saying that Meche is behind it. Or at least that the assassins that got killed came from Meche. That seems to be public knowledge. What is more interesting is that some say a noble house from Kindeance is involved as well. Nobody is saying names or pointing fingers to a specific house. Trying to figure out the source of that rumor but no luck yet on that part." The fox casually continued to walk alongside the elf while not being sure what their destination was. He just hoped that it was not the royal palace. The last time he enjoyed the hospitality of the court was five years ago and that wasn't a good time. "The back Serpants seem to be up to no good these days. One of them was quite eager to share that they had some deal with a royal guard. proberbly for smuggling or something."</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. An unusual fletching, huh... Henri pulled one of the brown-feathered arrows and placed it in his left arm after breaking it in half due to its length. He exhaled, as he metal-sensed the rest of the arrows. "These are just regular arrowheads..." Nothing traceable about them except these feathers. Throughout this walk, he couldn't find anything else even with his metal-sense and thirty-foot perception. Anderson and the men under him must've already swept this place several times over. One could wonder what Matilda was thinking of when he recommended Henri to help in the matter of procuring evidence; he was pretty sure he submitted his application as a combatant and some sort of backup blacksmith for their equipment...</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The guard shook his head, feeling a surge of recollection as the man Geito introduced himself and stated his business. Suddenly he felt he had seen this man before, but couldn't point where and when exactly. Before he realized it, his expression softened, and every word this Gaito uttered sounded reasonable, trustworthy, and... lucrative. Surely there was no harm in letting a few newsmakers have a look around, wasn't it? "Mr Geito, I really want to help but. Orders are orders, you see. Constable Delving will not tolerate any breach of rules." He glanced at the approaching guard. Then back at the group, particularly at the elf, who was now sidelined and steaming hot. It was an entertaining sight to behold. He bite his lips and continued. "Let's help each other yeah? How about you show me any form of identification? So I can put your name on the record. Then I can let you and your friends in." He waved at his friends and shouted. "It's all right, they are just tourist!"</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Royal Hunting Forest, Kindeance --- Solomon raised an eyebrow, not that anyone could accurately see it. Anderson mentioned that the Princes schedule was only know by a select few of castle staff. That potentially narrowed the list of informants the assassins could be using, bring them close to finding the culprit. Not only that, but if they had the prince's schedule, that would also explain the King's and how coordinated the attack was. Solomon pondered the information more. At least six assailants fleeing in four directions, leaving false tags to throw off search dogs. "The coordination between both attacks is too wall calculated. I suspect that someone who works directly with the prince, or someone who works in close association is your traitor. While you may have come to that conclusion, the information must have been accurate until the event itself. This person of interest may still be at the castle, and if not those who left would be worth questioning." said Solomon. While at the moment, he could not contribute much, he contemplated whether it was time to call upon those who were more skilled in this area. At the least he could do another sweep of the area from a more birds eye view which might reveal something. It was unfortunate that the dead had been taken away, otherwise Solomon could have asked them what happened directly. "Cedar. It might not be conventional, yet I witnessed you speak with the dogs and birds. I have a question for you. If you would speak with one of the horses who was intimately involved with the conflict, would that enlighten us to any new information?"</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito smiled at the guard as everything was going according to plan. Just like most other humans, the man in front of him was an easy prey for the kitsune's magic. It was a mild nuisance that he was still demanding some form of identification but that was something kaito could easily fix with his illusion magic. "Wonderful. It is always great when friends are helping each other out." Spoke the fox while grabbing a piece of illusionary parchment from one of the pockets of his coat. With a swift move of his hand he rolled the piece down, showing his 'Geito Brown' name, some text about being licensed by the royal court to gather and record news and some official looking seal. Of Course when someone would study the seal he would find that there were a lot of details off. That is why Kaito only showed the illusion for a split second. Just enough time to get the general details but not long enough to study them up close. "I'm sure this will do." The guard took a quick look and nodded "I'm looking forward to the story mister Brown" Kaito turned towards his companions and noticed the fury in Jazdia's eyes. The fox might have pushed it a bit to far with the notion that she got the job due to her pretty face. However now was not the time to comtemplate about that. The truth was that they didn't have all day. Eventually the charm effect on the guard will wear off and he might realize that 'Geito Brown' had done some funky business. It was better to wrap things up in the cemetery before that would happen. "Chop chop people. The news doesn't write themself and there are deadlines to be made you know." commanded Kaito as he spurred the party on. Quickly Kaito walked past the guard with the rest in tow. When he was sure that there was enough distance between the group and the guards he turned towards the elf. "We're in, so what's the plan Jaz?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" There should be some kind of magical bullshit at work here, because the guardsman's vigilance was slipping like a pebble rolling downhill. And the fact that she couldn't remember any sort of credentials given to the fox, yet there he went flashing one like it's the most natural thing in the world. Yvonne kept with the party, the corner of her lips twitching as she had to hold back a cackle. Why, Sparky was practically smoldering there. She's looking forward to the time they're leaving the premise later. "Geito" squirming and weaseling out of the hole he dug himself should be an entertaining sight. "Good luck, mate." She patted the aforementioned fox's shoulder, flashing a brief grin. Then back to the job. "How long do we have?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Plan? Oh, she had a lot of plans alright! Strangling this Fox demon and carving the word Civet on his forehead using a flaming arrow was totally not one of them, honest! Maintaining enough dignity to not hiss, she answered. "Why, of course, mister Geito," Despite the apparent sarcasm, that pseudonym irked her more than it should Jazdia had to fight the impulse to incinerate the document along with the fox youkai in front of her. "Why don't we start with keeping up with the deception?" beseeched Jazdia in a calm tone, yet her mannerism suggested she was about to feed Kaito the documents she was now giving. "Go get your story from those soldiers and compare their testimony with the report." Then, without any threat or violent misconduct, she left, walking down the path leading to the mausoleum. As much as she hated it when the guard leered at her no thanks to Kaito's unnecessary remark, she had to keep it cool. It was all just a part of the job, nothing personal. There would be plenty of chances to get even with that crafty fox. Just wait... "How long do we have?" asked the Rosenving daughter as she catched up with Jazdia. The elf stopped at the tile that had a faint yellowish stain, taking her time to kneel before answering the question. "Until that guard realizes we are pulling the wool over his eyes. Probably will take a while." She stroked the powdery compound, it smelled like sulfur, and there were some metal fragments residing in the withering grass. The casing of a smoke grenade? Quite a high-quality one it seemed. Bandits usually encase them with buffalo skin, and they didn't produce smoke in the intensity enough to make trained royal guards break their formation. According to the report, after an assailant had his head split open by Matilda and the other killed by Fredricus himself, their priority was to quickly evacuate the king out of the smoke screen. The third assassin tried to shoot the escaping monarch with a poisonous arrow, but Matilda deflected it with her shield. It seemed the orc woman wasn't so slouchy she lunged at the ranged assassin at neck-breaking speed and literally broke his neck, face and all against the nearest vertical surface she could find. A nasty blood stain on the chapel wall confirmed this account. Jazdia briefly activated her eyes. "Miss Rosenving, would you mind to look at the hedge near the tree?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chōnan decided to be an eye for the approaching guards and other people that may suspected them when they get caught. He activate the ki-sensing that widen the range of his awareness and will detect anyone on his range. Not being awakened with ki, people and other living that have life energy won't feel his detection. He will warn the party when someone is suspected to be coming in their place. In meantime. He looked on the things that Jazdia's inspecting with. He believes that it is smoke bomb as he also been using the kind of it when he was on past adventures. The casing seems unfamiliarfrom the way he use, local product nor even Kindereance's armory. It's either a customized from different kingdom or supplied by it disposal.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito could see the fury in Jazdia's eyes. The kitsune had managed to get under her skin once again. Usually that would result in a lot of scolding or some other furious reaction of the elf but not this time. Apart from a bit of sarcasm as she directed him to interview the guards, she kept her cool remarkably well. Much to the disappointment of the fox. However he was sure that Jazdia would exact retribution on a more appropriate time. She was a professional after all and would not attract unwanted attention with shenanigans. Kaito stared at the elf as she turned around and walked away, contemplating the fact of how much their personalities differ. Jazdia always seemed super serious and hyper focussed on the task at hand while the kitsune took life less seriously and breezed through it with witty remarks, often childish and sometimes crude humor and an attitude that does not seem to care about the consequences of his actions. And yet Kaito found himself staring at the back of the elf as she pretty much ditched him the moment they entered the cemetery. The fox watched how Yvonne followed Yazdia and Chounan retreated himself to keep watch. Apparently his companions would leave all the talking up to him. Luckily for Kaito that task was right up his alley. Quickly he approached the guard that was moving towards him and introduced himself with a small bow. "Greetings sir, I am Geito Brown. Chronicler of the Helvetian Daily Horn. We're here to document the heroic defense of our king for the annals of history and of course the population of Rascade. Could you tell me the details of the cowardly attack on our king? Like how many assailants there where and where they sprung their ambush from?"</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Yes... It would be easy to assume that they've been betrayed by someone from deep inside... Yet, at the same time, this is a world of magic. If they have someone like this man-bear Cedrick who Henri remembers scried the assassination attempt on Fredricus' life on the way here, or like Antigone who scries a myriad of scenarios every passing moment... Realistically, would they ever know? Henri scratched the back of his neck, and then raised a hand to catch Anderson's attention. "Did you recover any other items? Could you please just bring all the evidence in here? We'll review it as we walk." Then, back to the other three. "Are you planning to revive a dead horse? That aside, let's follow the blood closest to the prince's scent and see how far it takes us."</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "Wai' whut? Revive?... " Cedar boggled. The idea of bringing ANYTHING back from being actually DEAD-DEAD was... He could not wrap his head around it. He could not wrap his head around doing that to some poor critter that already had a terrible death to begin with- The idea was just flooring to him. "I thought ya was gunna track down the ones as survived or summat-- They won' be 'at far off-- Prolly all tagether 'nyhow-- Horses likes to pal around ya know. Safety in numbers." Then more earnestly-- ".... How you gunna talk ta a DEAD horse inna firs' place? -- Secon' thought, I dun wanna know...(only thing a dead horse 'good for is eatin'..)" He pushed the repulsive thought from his mind. He would DEFINITELY have to talk to his dad about this when he got back... "I thinks its a good idear ta be trackin that dumb shit as likely got a arrow stuck in 'im, afore it rains or sommat, and we lose the scent. The horses as run off might be able ta tell yas where they was stabled at afore they got rode here. Worth a shot-- I CAINT be the ONLY one as can ask em a simple 'nuff question, can I?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Well the estimated time was completely inaccurate then, ranging from "immediately" to "never". Yvonne wasn't really magically inclined to know. So gotta make every second counts. As for digging through the hedge? Not sure what she'd find there, personally, but the mercenary shrugged and knelt next to the hedge before carefully trying to find anything. ....and tried. And tried. "Is there something I'm supposed to see here or are ya pulling my legs?" She had even parted and poked at the greenery to no avail. Anything further would've damaged it, and that's probably gonna attract more eyes here.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword She walked with Cedar as he was interrogating the animals. Listening quietly to their conversation, she was curious about what he could find from these animals. Again assuming that he would not find much, perhaps she could persuade him to instead try to track the prince. After Cedar had interrogated the dogs' Matilda spoke up, "What information did the dogs and birds tell you? Where does what you found lead?" She felt stupid saying such a sentence, but this was the only lead they had so far. Matilda scanned the area for any other clues. Turning to face Anderson and the others, "These bastard must have been watching the prince's every move. Finding the right opportunity to strike. Or perhaps there is someone in the court working with the kidnappers." There was a possibility that someone in the court had given the kidnappers the prince's schedule. Or those inside of the court were a part of the plot. "I have seen this arrow before, it is specially made by a blacksmith in Rorthgaard a few miles from here." She wondered if the kidnappers had gone to this blacksmith for supplies. Solomon had a similar theory to Matilda, and she worried that this theory could be true. Crouching down once again placing her armoured hand on the ground, closing her eyes while moving her hand through the trampled grass. Breathing softly, she mentally tried to connect the pieces of what had happened. Noticing that the footprints were heading further into the forest, she turned towards Anderson. "Let's not waste any more time we need to move quickly."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] "We didn't find anything belonging to the kidnappers, sans the arrows." Given enough time they'd probably try recover that too, but perhaps going into a prolonged shootout wasn't in their plan and they ended up firing more than it's possible to clean up. Anderson really wished he had more things to show, but there had been minimum development for the past five days. "With all due respect ma'am, the timing coincides too much with the attack on the king." Interjected the squire. They didn't wait and strike at the most opportune time. This was a coordinated strike. "Rorthgaard? I'll have people look into it." And at the order of moving out, Anderson took out a rolled up parchment map from a tube. It depicted an area of the forest, the map itself a precious thing yet as it stood it's filled with scribbled markings. A section of it was lightly greyed out with a pencil, and there's an X somewhere near the edge of it. "We've combed the greyed area so far." The marking splayed like stubby zig-zag roots, indicating the trails left behind by the kidnappers. Two of them were much longer than the rest. "These two were duds, we found the boot in here. They're not making it easy to follow either."</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri exhaled. It should be noted that he really does not need to breathe, but this is exasperating. Sure took Matilda her sweet time to speak up. So these arrows are special after all? Additionally, where did that map come from? This guy... Had he not the initiative to show us that from the start? Henri at least felt a relief that Matilda looked steeled to pursue these footprints further and instead leaving Rorthgaard to these minions, but is everyone glossing over the fact that Cedrick mentioned about the escaped horses? Henri raised a hand. "Matilda. Let's split from here. Cedrick and I will track down the escaped horses." If it's as the man-bear says, he could talk to them and find out where they're stabled, and the horses might be saddled up with important items as well. This endeavor shouldn't be a problem with the both of them. Their speeds could easily outpace any horse. "Mind giving Cedrick something that carries your scent? Also," Henri taps Matilda's shoulder, casting Core Spreading on her shoulderplate. A streak of cyan lightning appears briefly on it. "I'll be able to hear you when you're nearby." A small pool of molten iron wells up from Henri's hand, preparing to drop them sparingly on the ground as breadcrumbs.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chōnan kept an eye on the demon fox until leaving on his range. He remain his position nearby Jazdia without being an obstacle on her. As the time running out, he decided to help Jazdia with the clues. He approached Yvonne and said. "Milady, I shall give you a hand." She paused for a while and nodded. Her identity is familiar by him despite she doesn't know him back. Adventurer's Guild assassins spreaded rumors about her and also they had admiration with her work. Also, an exchange letter between him and the prince back then about being kept mention her name, possibly his childhood crush may say. The hedge seems to be a good route for the victim to fled off from the assassin, maybe he can find something around under the range of the area that Miss Jazdia's mentioned. He removed his shoes and attached it on his sliding line of his bag. Finding some luck by using his sense of touch of his bare feet inside the grassy yard.</s>

<|message|>Kaito "I see, thank you for the information. It will surely help with documenting the events here. May your fallen comrades feast in the hall of the gods for all eternity." With those words Kaito finished up the interrogation of the young guard. The fox went on to talk to some of the other guards but they all gave similar answers for the ones that were around during the attack. There were some points in the testimony from the guard that the kitsune found intriguing. First and foremost was the point that all guards seem to refer to the assailants as Mecheans and yet the official report never stated that fact. The kitsune assumed that the authors of the official report also questioned the guards on site and yet somehow omitted their testimony about the assailants being Mecheans from the report. Did the guards not share that information or was it kept out on purpose? A question that certainly needed to be answered. There were some more details from the guard's testimony that did not match up with the report. The report never talked about any casualties among the guards, also the report explicitly stated that the king was around till the smoke went off and yet the guard mentioned that madame Mathilda immediately escorted the king back to the palace. Also the guard spoke about the assassins disappearing into thin air while the report mentioned them escaping in the crowds. There were too many discrepancies between the testimony of the guard and the official report that drew suspicion. Someone seemed to be lying. After finishing up the questioning of the guards Kaito walked back to Jazdia. For a moment the kitsune played with the idea of calling her by a nickname again but decided that he had infuriated the elf enough already. Pushing her buttons a bit more would be asking for more trouble than he could handle. "Miss Yazdia, got a minute or are you busy?" Spoke the fox with the sweetest smile he could muster. "Who wrote the official report? There are a lot of differences between what the guards told me and what was written down. It's pretty suspicious in my opinion. We might have to look into that a bit further." Spoke Kaito in a more serious tone. He paused a bit before he continued to speak. "The little pipsqueak guard over there had some interesting quotes about what the assassins shouted. Apparently one of them yelled death to the Marauder-king. Do you think that the Mecheans are blaming Fredericus for the shit his grandpa pulled? Or does the beloved king of Kindeance has some dark secrets?" As Kaito was informing the elf on the further differences between the testimony of the guards and the guards he brought up one more subject. "The guard mentioned that someone shouted 'By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!' after the smoke went up and just before a blinding flash that made the last assassins disappear into thin air. It seems that the Black Serpant guild might be playing some role in this."</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri grabbed the map, cross-referenced it with the lake, and figured out their heading. This has to be where Young Master is kept, right? No... This is probably a mere meeting point at best. Five days removed from the incident, there's probably nothing left in it to check. It wouldn't quite hurt to look though, being this close by. If there's any danger, he's confident in his own abilities. A bear of his size should be no slouch in combat either. Henri thinks of this, unknowing of Cedrick's age or actual combat experience. "We should swing by it. Just us two. I don't quite feel like calling on Matilda and the others, they're far away at this point." At worst, they'd be hindrances that Henri would have to protect or struggle to coexist in battle with. At best, he'd have wasted their time for nothing, after already having agreed to split up. Having already memorized the map due to his eidetic memory, he hands the map back to Cedrick and basically wills the items to sort themselves onto the mat that unfurled itself from previously being a saddle bag. Metals rolled on the right, and non-metals found themselves on the left. "We should sort all of this out first, though. Which one's yours, mine, or evidence. For starters," he grabs one of the small bottles of unknown powder. A potent irritant, seeing how affected Cedrick was by just a whiff of it. This should serve useful in the future, somehow. A force of habit. Henri drank from his metal flask that he pulled from inside his jacket, remembering the lake and the possible moistness of the air near it and the eventual marsh.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Distance isn't an issue, I know men that could pull trick shots with longbows. They just need an elevated vantage points... I'd put archers on top of the mausoleum if I have the time, but otherwise they'll just need to scramble on top of the tombstones." "I don't think they were on the top of the mausoleum. But you are right. One archer stayed near its door, shooting at Fred effortlessly because nobody was there to guard it. One archer moved closer to ensure his arrow hit the mark, which wasn't served him well in the end. Four flankers came from the crowd, providing distraction and an element of surprise. It should had been a sound plan if someone didn't lose their nerve and throw the smoke, messing up the archer's aim. When they realized that Matilda and her lackeys were unmatched in melee combat and the King himself was no pushover, they retreated before the smoke dispersed and nobody at that time had any inkling on how and to where they escaped." Jazdia wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Nobody huh?" She tried to bypass the runic warding again and could only see a little bit more of that door. Apparently, it was the classic Tretagorian locking mechanism where the door can only be opened by the key with identical runes. Now here was the neat part; it can be opened from the inside with a lever. An old-age design in case the beloved ones resurrected on the seventh day like ancient messiahs, or simply to minimize accidental entombment... "So somebody was waiting for them behind the door, and the challenge code was 'By the Blessing of the Ouroboros! We have reclaimed what is ours!'" Meanwhile at the front gate, an officer could be seen reprimanding his subordinate. "You fool! There is no such thing as Helvetian Daily Horn!" lashed a blonde man wearing a decorated cuirass and iron gauntlets. His voice thundered like an old god described in an ancient manuscript, and rightfully so as a captain with power over his men. Tall and imposing, every aspect of his action bespoke absolute authority the guard in front of him looked like a child playing a tin man, and when his eyes fixed on the group, they glowed in immeasurable ire. "I will see you at the brig!" he raised his index finger at that poor guard then stormed off. His stompings on the paved path did very little to hide his exasperation with the situation, but the man tried to appear professional; His posture was straight, and his face showed no unnecessary emotion save the tranquil rage in his eyes. When Jazdia faced the man, he asked sternly: "Good afternoon. May I insist you to explain your business in our sacred ground?" Watch out, this sounded like a question that could earn you a one-way trip to Rascade dungeon if answered incorrectly.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito watched patiently as Yvonne and Jazdia discussed the intricacies of archery. Apparently one of the assassins had been shooting arrows from close to the mausoleum at the king. What interested the fox more was the fact that the elf noticed that there was some sort of passageway under the mausoleum. If that was how the assassins got in and out, they had to find a way to get in the structure. For a moment he inspected the lock and came to the swift conclusion that picking it would not be an easy task. The actual mechanism was very complex. Usually not the kind of lock you'd place on a mausoleum. Kaito judged that that trying to pick it would be difficult. Better find someone who could actually open the door for them. Just as the kitsune was about to ask Jazdia about who has the keys to the mausoleum a ruckus at the front gate caught Kaito's attention. Apparently a captain of the royal guard had come to inspect his men and wasn't too pleased with the fact that they let them in. His arrival could be troublesome. The captains of the royal guard weren't exactly your run of the mill guards like the pipsqueak with the armor that was a couple of sizes too big. No, the captains were on a completely different level. All highly trained and experienced professionals. They would not be easily fooled nor quickly beguiled by magical charm. Give such a man the impression that you're trying to bewitch him and the situation could escalate quickly. A fight with the royal guard was the last thing they needed right now. For a moment the fox pondered about what strategy they should choose. He wasn't sure if they could trust the captain. As far as Kaito was concerned everyone in the royal court could be a traitor. Giving too much information might endanger the mission. Trying to fool the man might escalate the situation and endanger the mission as well. They would have to walk a tightrope and hope to reach the end without falling. As the captain addressed Jazdia, Kaito stepped forward. "Good afternoon sir. You certainly may insist that we state our business. However I hope that you understand that, concerning the grave events that transpired at this site, that our business is on a strictly need to know basis only." Spoke the fox in a serious tone. For a moment he studied the captain's facial expression and quickly came to the conclusion that a 'it's none of your business' would not be sufficient. The man in front of him would probably not be satisfied with anything less than some official documentation. If anyone had some form of documents in the group it would be the elf. Yet Kaito was also aware that she was a very private person and very unwilling to share any personal details. Details that might need to be redacted or blurred out before the captain could see whatever Jazdia was holding on too. "But perhaps you're high enough up in the chain of command to be informed on our business. I think we are at liberty to share some of the details, don't you agree miss Jazdia?" Spoke Kaito as he held up his hand for any documents hoping that his comrade trusts him enough to keep her private details a secret.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "No, Junior. I dont think I will." Well ain't today just going real real bad. Yvonne sported a lopsided grin, something her brothers in arms would've recognized as the prelude to violence, but this far off her hunting grounds there's no one capable of noticing the threat. "What make you think I care about my family, daddy's boy? Looks like you still have no brains between that ears of yours - crown business. Maybe try listening sometimes. I'd say if you hurry you can run to father dearest to beg his majesty for some breadcrumbs before the day ends." And the damned foreigner just went and spouted some convulted nonsense. Then he got taken down by surprise. Good fucking job man. Yvonne ain't letting that happen though, dude's about a third of their fighting strength by her estimate. The mercenary took one step forward, twice, swing her leg back, tap into her inner strength, and kicked the dumb schmuck trying to cuff her coworker. Not a big boost, she's not planning to kill the footman, but enough to lift him a foot into the air. Catching the idiot by his cuirass strap, she utilized the man as a bludgeon to knock away the other two before tossing him toward Aaron - who saw it coming and stepped aside, but all it achieved was the improvised projectile crashing into the gathering rank of the guards. That should do for warm up. "Up you go." She grabbed the downed adventurer by the scruff of his neck, pulling him to a standing position before retreating out of the pike's range. Yvonne escalated alright, but no steel were drawn on her part. Who knows? Maybe the show of force will get the other side to reconsider their stance. She didn't fancy the thought of fighting through the entire garrison of Rascade.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword Matilda walked off in the direction of the footprints, the kidnappers thought themself pretty clever that there could try to cover their tracks. But she was a much more skilled hunter than Anderson and the others. She thought this was now turning into a hunt, she was the predator searching for her prey. Standing in between some trees, she stopped and stood there for a moment. She was placing her hand on the tree, wanting to know what they saw during the incident. Getting quick flashes of what happened, seeing the kidnappers waiting for the right time to strike. Gets into a skirmish with the guards, and during the confusion stole the prince. Having to run on foot northwest. "Where did they go? Is there a safe house they ran off to with the prince?" Communicating with the trees, wanting to know where the kidnappers could have gone. Hearing a distant voice of the kidnappers, mentioning something about a submerged ruin west of here. She knew what they were talking about, it was a lookout formerly used by the Kindence forces during a war with some dark elves a long time ago. "So that is where they are keeping the prince. Thank you Sar Echia." Patting the large oak tree, walking off towards the direction of the ruins. The trip did not take long for Matilda, once she was a few meters from the ruins. She crouched down behind some trees. Watching the ruins to make sure there was no one patrolling the area. Her eyes looked over at the marking Henri made to her armour, remembering that she could hear every word. "If you hear me Henri, I have followed the trail to some submerged ruins. It does not look like they are any patrolling guards, so perhaps they could be hiding inside the ruins. The ruins are located west of the hunting grounds, I do not know where you are, but the ruins should be located by a large body of water. So just follow the river near you, which should lead towards the ruins." Heading carefully towards the ruins, noticing that half of it was submerged in the lake. It has not been abandoned for almost seventy years. Matilda searched for someway inside the structure. Finally finding the main entrance that was not submerged in the water. Moving as stealthfully as she could inside, finding it eerily silent. Part of her thought no one was here, becoming increasingly worried that the prince was not there.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri then headed towards the ruins at a walking pace, following from a distance Cedar who's naked and on all fours, inconspicuously posing as a bear. Well, by all accounts, he's at best part-bear, but this way he looks no different than actual bears in the wild. Whether or not bears could actually be found in the marsh, Henri had never cared to remember. Quite the quiet stroll. Nothing but the sounds of their gentle footsteps, the marsh insects, and the flowing lake not so far away from them. Dry footsteps even if they're in the marsh, as Henri actively rids the mud of its moisture with every step, via a combination of his telekinesis and temperature increase. Suddenly, as they get closer, a peculiar voice starts to ring. Matilda? Large body of water? No way... Henri smirked. She actually got to the exact place they were heading even if they took a different route? So, the kidnappers convened in there after all... Wait, she didn't rush in alone, did she? With merely the frail lanky man on his side? Henri hurriedly skated with his oversized boots, reaching within Cedar's earshot. A steadily loudening ring of 'Cedar. Cedar.' could be heard, until Cedar turned his head towards Henri. "Cedar. Run. I can hear Matilda, she's already in there." It is quite urgent, but he's quite too chill to shout about it. It should come without saying too that no one's patrolling the entrance.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's ears popped up with alarm and his bright brown eyes sparkled with bits of white surrounding them. He shot a glance at Henri, blinked, then tore up the ground on a mad-dash sprint toward the ruins, sticking to areas he was certain were free of hazards, leaving the the odd man behind in a flurry of flying mud chunks. Henri caught up shortly after, as Cedar was shaking off the last of the mud chunks from his feet. The man seemed eager to get the gunk off the boots he had borrowed as well, as he kicked it off, then scraped it on the few exposed paving stones of the ruins, before the two of them searched for the entrance.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia felt the sores building in her hand. If it was an idle insult, she would have tolerated it, but the man attacked her fair and square and trampled on the legal bindings that were supposed to be as sacred as the law itself. If she was her younger self, she would have reached for Maugrim in instant. But while still contemplating whether she should let it ride or slice the man's neck open, That oriental knight suddenly made provocative actions, spewing threats, trying to assert dominance. The Constable reacted immediately, followed by his men. Then it was the small lady's turn, intervening by sending one guard flying with a kick and jostling the others like a rag doll. However, the escalation halted with an uneasy stalemate when the Rosenving noble secured the Samurai boy and had him standing up again, retreating from the impending brawl, but certainly not running from it. Jazdia casually pushed aside one of the pointing spears and made her way to pick up her document back. Glared at the two troublemakers, she commanded; "Stay where you are." Then she faced the constable, letting out a long breath before speaking. "Now you have it, the show of force. Congratulations! Are you ready to be sensible now?" But the Constable's wrath remained unhinged. He eyed his men, and Jazdia could feel the point of their pikes following behind her. "Do you think I am playing games here, you elf bitch?" "Yes, and the bad one I am afraid. Trespassing, that's the only infraction you can convict us with, and you had the entire platoon making an arrest before we could finish explaining ourselves. Ignorantia iuris nocet, your negligence of the correct procedure could cost you. Are you willing to take that bet?" The constable tensed, but then reined his temper. "Look at how pathetic you are speaking about the law while you beguiling my men to get what you want." "Can you prove it?!" scoffed the elf, then she turned around. "Can you all?" "No, they can't. And here you are hell-bent on arresting us as if your life depended on it. You can try, Constable." she raised her voice so all soldiers could hear it too. "You all can try! But know this, we will not go quietly, we will cripple you and maybe kill some of you if we have to. And the worst thing that could happen to us is several days in your dungeon and a slap on the wrist. You are now assaulting those who work with your king. What is your defense?" She retreated. A blade of one of the pikes touched her shoulder, but both the elf and the soldiers stood unwavering. "What is your defense, Soldiers? Your captain is a noble gentleman. But you lot are not. Your captain will be fine. But you will be the one who takes the brunt of his unprofessional misdemeanor, in addition to suffering the aftermath of this hostile encounter. You saw what is sealed on that paper, and God is my witness you stand between fulfilling your duty as your captain commanded, or hindering the task given by His Highness. Make your choice!</s>

<|message|>Kaito The situation was escalating at a rapid pace. Constable Delving was hellbound on asserting his authority to the point that he even refused to take a look at the official documents which had the king's seal on it. To Kaito the Constable's behavior was rather suspicious. It almost looked like he wanted these nosy trespassers out of the scene at all cost. Could be an ego thing or something far more sinister. This whole situation would be extremely funny if you could watch it from the sidelines. However the fox found himself on the frontline with a dozen pointy sticks facing in their direction. A rather peculiar situation he'd rather not be in. Getting turned into fox-kebab wasn't something Kaito was looking forward to so the kitsune remained on guard all the time. Making sure he could dodge whatever the constable and his men would throw at him. "Whoa, no need to turn violent here. There have already died more than enough good men on this sacred ground in service of his majesty in the past few days. The last thing we need is that we start fighting amongst ourselves with all the events that have transpired here recently. No need to lose your heads here. If we could all keep our calm I'm pretty sure we can work things out if you guys could read the document. Just like you royal guards, we are loyal servants of King Fredericus." Spoke Kaito to the constable's men in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Gathered in a worn-out quiver with an adjustable sling, the arrow looked alien. Its fletching was three spongy fins with textures like cured leather, glued onto a shaft composed of equally strange material. On a closer look, the shaft looked like it was crafted from very smooth ebony, but lighter and less stiff. At the end of the shaft was an unbarbed diamond-shaped steel arrowhead, and that was the only part of Jazdia's arrow that looked ordinary. As the elf held the arrow by its nock, a stream of energy wrapped its shaft and spread forward, forming a purplish flame on the metal arrowhead and turning it into amethyst-like crystalline. Jazdia's eyes glowed in a similar luster as she did the same to three more arrows. She placed the arrows on the table, separated from the other, unenchanted arrows on her left side. In front of her was Chounan's map, and with a graphite stylus, she marked three warehouses with crosses; one in the south, one near the Guild's HQ, and the last one was the warehouse near the harbor. While The other two were marked with circles. Both were situated in a venue with a considerable distance from the HQ. "When they realize someone is sabotaging their warehouses, the bulk of their security will be directed to the unharmed warehouses to prevent more damage. If it goes as planned, it will take a while for them to return to the HQ even if they got a wind of our infiltration." "Mr. Chounan can I entrust you with this task?" Jazdia presented the four arrows on the table and to the bewilderment of her companions, she revealed: "Those are explosive arrows." She eyed them and spared some time to savor their panicked expression, considering it as some sort of payback. "Relax. I instructed those arrows to be fully cooked in 8 hours from now. And even if those things are still with us after 8 hours mark, they will not go off as long as I am still here. She turned to Chounan again. "The plan is simple, fire those arrows on the marked warehouses and report back here once the task is completed. Be quick and don't get caught. I heard you are a fine archer and can ride swiftly. I am counting on you." "I hope you are not forgetting that the HQ is heavily guarded no matter what." said Kaito, explaining that the HQ also has a magical seal blocking its door to the basement. Kaito's story about those dragons feels rather surreal somehow. Anyway, with the plan laid out, it was obvious they would not sneak into the place in the dead of the night. "With so many security details, it would be impossible to not go loud on this operation, and that would beget another problem. Geralt may escape when he realized his place has been compromised. that would make things unnecessarily complicated indeed." Another silence fell until Kaito came up with a very absurd idea. "We'll be needing a serious business proposal. I heard some whispers that the Black Serpents are looking for high-end slaves. You know, people with specialty skills or dashingly good looks, like an elven beauty." He smiled, and that one smile so wicked Jazdia considered enhancing another arrow and stuck it in his behind as a punishment. No, she wasn't the one doing it. No matter how sensible the plan seemed to be, her pride was too huge to be tarnished like that she would rather close the place down and never come back to Kindeance, ever again, dead prince be damned! She breathed rapidly, before regaining her composure. "let's not overcomplicate things. We blast their door open and get the man. I don't care if we will have the entire basement caved in!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Uh, one question. Wouldn't it be more feasible to grab the man in his mansion? Or better yet, when he's on the way home." No matter how reinforced a carriage was, it wouldn't hold a candle to a properly set up building. Not as many guards too, and reinforcement would be both slow and scarce. Hit it fast, hit it hard, and be gone before anyone can process what happened. "On a side note, I'm against walking up on their front door. They'll inevitably recognize us, and when it comes to these kind of folks they can hold grudge for a really long time. Unless we completely uproot the entire band in one go." A more troublesome aspect was them going after the people around oneself. Yvonne couldn't care less, Foxxie probably would just disappear, but they wont hesitate burning this place down to hurt Sparky here for one. Dunno if the foreigner have family or acquaintances here, but they too would be a target. No, pretending to be businessmen had more trouble than its worth.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Uh, one question. Wouldn't it be more feasible to grab the man in his mansion? Or better yet, when he's on the way home." "If you ask me, I don't believe this entire Mansion thingy. In the times like this, strongmen usually will be more vigilant than ever. They wanted to be closer to their empire. Making sure it runs smoothly while at the same time remaining low profile. Remember that Gerald's face and his rank were barely known. This means the man is paranoid and rarely makes a public appearance. He would stay on his throne even if his empire is on fire. And don't forget, if the assassination attempt is any indication, they seemed to have a very extensive tunnel system, and they can and will use those passages as their primary means of transporting. "On a side note, I'm against walking up on their front door. They'll inevitably recognize us, and when it comes to these kind of folks they can hold grudge for a really long time. Unless we completely uproot the entire band in one go." "Our options are either that or have one of us cuffed." Jazdia shrugged. "Why? Do you fear those kinds of riffraff? If we can prove their involvement in Fred's assassination, I am damned sure Kindeance would have the entire guild purged until there is no single snake scale left."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" "Our man need to sleep somewhere, yeah? Good point though, so we go in fast and hard. You got our exit planned?" This felt kinda rushed, unless Sparky here secretly already kept a plan to assault the target. Wont be too surprising if she did, honestly. The elf had way too many obstructive layer to be just a disposable pawn like the rest of the team. Just what kind of company was she running? Yvonne took another bite out of her chicken. Whatever company it was, they made some damn good chicken. "Yeah, nah. Let's just attack them as your initial plan. If it goes well there should be no tangible way to connect it to us." As if any plan ever went well. If it require more than two steps it's less of a plan and more of wishful thinking, but Yvonne just shrug. She'll improvise on the fly if it's necessary, it's nowhere near her first time up shit creek with no paddle. "You sure our target will be there? It's well past midnight in eight hours."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The idea was solid, but plain physics dictated that it wasn't a possible outcome. Converting the ashes back into paper was a slow, energy consuming process, but as it went there's clearly something wrong with it. The reproduced paper was based on the remaining corners - ergo, completely blank. Combustion tend to be a one way street after all. A fly buzzed and landed on the paper. It rubbed its front pair of legs impertinently.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. The fly was incinerated upon approach, and he irritatingly shot the ashes and paper in his hand forward, making a cloud of black smoke and a decent smear on the wall. His usefulness to this team at this point was already questionable, but it only seems to dwindle further. No, there's one more foray left to tackle. Henri moved closer to the stairs and carefully discarded all the items that weren't his but Cedar's, then headed down the stairs, meeting the other four members mid-way. As he took something off from inside his coat, "Cedar, I left your stuff in there. Matilda," he handed back her family's medallion, and walked past them. "I'm going to check the submerged floors." His shoes make an awful amount of clacking noises without Cedar's boots, huh. Putting bronze soles on his shoes for easier sliding and skating... It definitely is one of the ideas of all time. After making sure that all the items within his body are fully sealed to prevent water damage, and depraved of air to prevent buoyancy, he walked down the waterlogged stairs and into the water.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The submerged level was pitch black. Moss grown on just about any surface, while tiny fishes lazily floated around the room without much care to the world. The layout was much the same as the floors above, and equally empty. Seemed that this level wasn't instantly flooded back then, allowing the content to be evacuated before the water took them. The structure itself was relatively well-preserved despite decades sitting underwater, though the great logs holding up the ceiling had shown some signs of rotting by now. The stairs still continued down, to what must've been the cellar.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito listened quietly to Jazdia's plan. It was pretty audacious to just blitz in through the front door, grab the man and get out. However if they could manage to lure away enough people, they might make it to the target and get out. However, the aftermath could become problematic. The Black Serpent's guild would see it as a declaration of war. "I think it is plausible. With the distraction and the element of surprise to actually get in and get out. No one in the Black Serpent guild is going to expect anyone storming through the front door. So far so good. But the plan hinges on if we can find evidence of their involvement and if we can persuade the royal court to make a move. If we fail on that second part we'll have the entire guild coming for our heads. I doubt constable Delving would be very pleased to raid the Black Serpent guild for us after today, in the case he's not involved with them himself. Who do we present the evidence to?"</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. "Henri greets the Constable." If this is one of those stuck-up nobles, he needs to to present himself at least this much. Although it was irritating, not everyone's as carefree about these insignificances as Antigone. The door opens and closes by itself, away from Henri's preoccupied hands still carrying the three crates of wine. He did think the room looked nice, but he never understood this pride the humans took from killing animals, so much that they'd plaster their heads on a wall like this. Especially that elk. Henri sets the crates down the carpeted floor as he sits. "Indeed. Would you care for some eighty-year-old wine? I have whiskeys here," he reaches in the crates and holds up a bottle of the whiskey slightly above the height of Aaron's desk, "or is vodka more to your liking? By the way, I heard about what happened in the mausoleum. Per chance, did it involve a blond elf and two teenagers? Please spare no details."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Satisfied with Sparky's planning, Yvonne faded from the discussion as she returned her attention to her meal. She did catch the room number, finishing the food quickly and feeling the familiar tingle of alcohol in her fingertips. Yeah, that's some nice and strong stuff right there. Definitely would recommend. Upstairs, the mercenary found herself in a double room with presumably Sparky inside the bath. Not really feeling like waiting, she simply strip the armor and gambeson layer and leave them on the available hanger while her weapons went on a bedside table save for the rondel dagger. Now that she felt much lighter without all that weight, Yvonne stretched before collecting a bathrobe and a towel and descended back down to the communal bath. It's completely empty. There didn't seems to be any other guests beside their little party, so she's got the whole place for herself. Nice. Letting herself relax, Yvonne sighed wearily as she cleansed herself of the grit accumulated through the day. She sported more than a few scars than a woman her age normally have, various deep cuts that left pale lines once they healed. Minor injuries hardly leave a mark somehow, otherwise she'd have way more than these. But even then there's still a significant number lining her body, though none were anywhere near recent. It's an undeniable indication that she's gotten better over time, if nothing else. Stretching once more, Yvonne set to work on cleansing her hair. It's the only source of vanity she kept despite the risk, braided and bunned out of the way. It now spread across the water like soggy seaweed, just combing it into an acceptable will take so much time. Then there's the actual washing and whatnot... About an hour later, a tired Yvonne barely registered the unoccupied bed before falling on it like a log. She's out cold almost immediately.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] The constable didn't like Henri very much. It's unthinkable for someone with unclear background to be tasked with tutoring a member of the royal family, yet Fredricus was strangely adamant about it. And beyond that, the man himself unnerved him for a reason he couldn't quite put his hands on. He felt human, but only slightly bit off the mark. It's like... something that pretended very well to be a man. But it's not one. "No need. State your business." Delving eyes the stacks of sodden trunks with distate before staring back at Henri, his brows scrunched even further at the inquiry. "I am unaware that this issue have anything to do with the imperial tutor. I will need a good reason to disclose an... ongoing investigation with you, Ser Henri."</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. Henri slapped the desk. This guy, seriously... "Tch. Obviously I'm not here as an imperial tutor, if the one I aim to teach has been missing for a week." He side-eye glared at this blond oaf. "I'm here under the direct employ of His Highness to investigate the kidnapping of the Young Master and the attempt on His Highness' life." No, he's only entasked to bring back the Young Master, but if he were to guess what excuse Jazdia's team gave the guards, it'd probably be somewhere along these lines, or at least the part about investigating just the assassination attempt. "Those three probably said the same thing, right? No, it makes complete sense that you didn't believe them, since Matilda wasn't there." He leaned back from his chair, holding the whiskey bottle upside-down, balanced on merely his right index finger. He notices Aaron's expression change with the mention of Matilda. Hmm. So it's like that, huh? "But then, she must've seen ahead of time and handed them the Royal Seal... Hm." He lazily pointed a left-hand finger at Aaron. "Did that Yvonne Rosenving injure your knights because you chose to ignore even His Highness' Royal Seal? You let your petty disdain towards Matilda impede His Highness' business?" The lights in the room dim, and Henri's eyes glow a hot orange. At the walls of the room too, the animals whose heads adorn the walls as a trophy, their eyes too shone orange, and began emitting smoke. The lengths he has to go through just to get a prissy noble to talk. This Aaron's been eyeing Henri cautiously ever since he went in. If he were to guess, it's this same unnerving feeling everyone gets when they meet him, when the subconscious just screams that Henri's not human. He noticed it from Jazdia too. If it's to speed up this farce, then Henri shall reinforce Aaron's fear.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" **Elsewhere, near the tower** Cedar thanked the crows, then collected himself and his tools, before heading back out over the marsh back toward the lake. The horses were still milling about, nibbling on grass, and being generally ornery about his approaching them. They still did not appreciate his being half bear, despite fully knowing he was not going to eat them. If they had been humans, he would have considered bigotry, but as it was, he knew it was just nature forcing its way to the top. It was a good, natural, and reasonable instinct to have, given how his mom would have handled this. He chuckled to himself. The idea of his mom deciding that she had had enough of their bullshit, and just eating one of them to make the point, brought a smile to the corners of his face. Despite the wry humor of the situation, it was still an annoyance, as he herded them back toward the tower and into the "stable", where he unsaddled and brushed them down-- wide-eyes and snorts be damned. Some of them had saddle and strap galds from having their gear on for too long. Absently, he used the modest healing magic he knew to correct it, as he did the brushing. They still distrusted him, but slowly the nags started getting the hint more clearly. He was climbing up the stairs with a saddle over each shoulder, (the first of several planned trips) when a small grey and black bird noisly landed in front of him and started cooing, walking back and forth, blocking his path. "What'ya want, lil bird? Ya in the way!" It just continued moving back and forth on the stair, blocking his ingress, cooing at him. Irritably, he put down the saddles on the stairs, then crouched down to look at the silly thing more clearly. There was a tiny capsule on its leg, which it was earnestly trying to make conspicuous with its repeated movements on the stair. A sudden spark of cognition hit him, and he realized it was a messenger pigeon. Carefully, he teased the extremely tiny capsule open and extracted the thin, light bit of folded paper inside. Reading was not his strong suit-- he had quite a bit of difficulty with it at times. His dad told him it was not really that important, except when dealing with dishonest merchants, tax collectors, auditors, and other "official" humans-- For the most part, if he could muddle through reading the signs outside shops to know what they sold, it was likely good enough, and better than a lot of peasants could do. He squinted at the tiny text... -------- Madame Matilda, It pains me to inform you that I cannot regroup with your party at Hdur at the scheduled time. We had a situation with the city Constable, and the uncooperativeness he and his men displayed cost us valuable hours. Fortunately, we managed to secure crucial information regarding His Highness' assassination plan, and it involved a local group with extensive knowledge of the city's underground tunnels. We will work on this clue and see if we can regroup with you tomorrow. PS: the pigeon is trained to not leave your side immediately in case you wanted to reply to this letter. If you wished to do so, the password to send him home will be márnanwen, meldë -------- He looked down at the bird, which looked up at him expectantly, before fluttering its wings. He sighed, nodded at the bird, then picked up the saddles again. The pigeon fluttered up and landed on his shoulder, continuing to coo expectantly at him. 'The things humans trained animals to do', he thought to himself. He would give the note to its intended recipient, Miss Matilda. HOPEFULLY she was done with, and had dispatched, that shuffling horror Solomon had conjured.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Watch Tower Ruins, Kindeance --- Hdur. The elf woman, Jazdia, had already made plans for them to regroup in Hdur. What a strange coincidence. However, given the town's reputation, perhaps not all that strange. Solomon stood listening to the words coming from the newly awoken corpse. He called himself Birk, and he was a hunter of sorts. Whether he was a part of the group of assassins had yet to be determined though. He knew where they holed up in, but did not see the prince. Solomon looked towards Matilda and then back at Birk. Something might have gone lost in translation. "You say you hunt in the royal grounds in secret. Were you at the royal forest five days ago? Were you a part of a plot involving the royal prince? Tell us of what you might have seen that day."</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito listened quietly as Jazdia put him in his place. She was right, whatever happens he would manage. For the fox it was easy to slip away and lay low. Not many bridges to burn, maybe just one. The others had more to lose, or so he assumed. "Alright, storming through the front door and kicking ass it is!" Spoke Kaito as the elf was done with addressing his concerns. He watched quietly as the others retreated to get some rest. At the eve of battle the kitsune always felt a bit too restless to sleep. It was not that he necessarily felt afraid or doubted his own skills. It was more that he just didn't like combat. The fox simply did not get any enjoyment out of the act. Kaito ordered a bottle of hot sake, kicked the seat back a bit and placed his feet on the neatly cleaned table. In that pose he waited for the others to come back</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword Matilda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, messing about in this fortress only achieved wasting their time. She wanted to ride off toward Hdur, but she did not know what would happen to her during the night. Although she could handle herself in a fight, there was something frightening about wandering out in the fortress. Having that corpse walking around did not help her anxiety. "We can rest here, and head for Hdur when the sun rises." She glared over toward Anderson. Even though she couldn't see her expression, he could tell she was staring at him. Sitting alone in another room, the room she was sitting in was partially open letting the moonlight fill half of the room. Resting up against a wall, her sword was standing near her upright. Taking off her helmet while taking a deep breath. Taking in the sound of the fauna outside. Her sense of tranquillity was disturbed by a noise coming from the other end of the room. Thinking it was some sort of creature hiding in the fortress, she gripped her sword hilt. "You know, you will never find him. He's as dead as ol Birk." The voice was familiar to Matilda, it was an entity born from her family's curse. Those who were unable to conquer the curse, ended up utterly insane. "Be silent, we will find the prince. I know he is still alive, it would not make any sense for the kidnappers to kill their hostage." She shook her head, as the eyes in the darkness seemed to roll in annoyance. "Highly unlikely, they could have off em. Could have killed him once they had run his course. I would ave loved to see what they would have done to him, cutting off his fingers and toes. Enjoying his squeals while they cut off his peter. All because you could not save him." The voice changed to the prince crying for Matilda to save him, before changing back to the voice laughing sadistically. "SHUT YOUR MOUTH CUR." Matilda screamed out, her voice echoing throughout the fortress. Her hand tightly gripped her sword. 'You should be searching for him right now, you would have a better chance of finding him yourself." The voice said which made Matilda shake her head. "I don't know if I could find him myself, which is why I have people helping me." She waved her hand back and forth. "Oh like that bumpkin bear, the necromancer, and that snooty tin man? They have done nothing to help your investigation. Tin man ditched you, and the other two were found squat except for talking to birds and dead bodies." The voice's voice was speaking to Matilda in a mocking manner. "They have been quite helpful, so don't underestimate their abilities. I believe in them.' This made the voice chuckle. "Ha, I highly doubt that. You would be better off without them, the rage is what get's things done. SMASH AND RIP." The voice seemed to disappear, its voice echoing in her ears. Matilda took the bottle of whiskey out, chugging the contents. Feeling a bit of her sanity starting to fade away.</s> <|message|>Gentileschi, Henri Dominique. . Rascade, the evening before... Henri's abode. Located near the plaza and harbour. It's been quite a long time since he set foot near here again. It almost felt like a far longer time to just walk from the Constable's office to here. Two hours just pass by in a flash. At first glance, most people think this house is abandoned. Vines creep at the walls. Dust and cobwebs adorn the windows and roof skirts. Leaves, unswept, decorate the tiny lawn blocked by a short brick fence and a short iron gate. A remotely tall person could simply walk across it. The curtains behind the grated windows weren't closed, but peeking in would only reveal what seemed like an abandoned art studio. Canvasses of 'art' that could only be described as no more than random smears of colour. Scattered buckets of paint, and equally scattered brushes and graphite. An overall lack of furniture except for a sink, a fireplace, a single stool chair and a single table. Not a large family table, a small one for propping up bowls of fruits. A depressing, unlivable sight. The door oddly had no doorknob, no keyhole of the sort. The only lock mechanisms are placed on the inner side of the door, so to the outside, it looks boarded-up. It's made specifically so that only Henri could open it from the outside. He placed the liquor crates on the dusty floor and grabbed his chest. A few seconds later, he blew out a shot of fire -- the shot of whiskey from earlier. He didn't want to smell of liquor, even if he couldn't smell anything himself. Ah-- tch. He stepped on the embers left over on the floor by that trick. In his hurry to get rid of the liquor without prying eyes, he forgot to sell these crates to any possible establishment. He placed the whiskey crate on the fruit table, and carried the two vodka crates to the nearest establishment he could find. Angel's Share... Isn't that what you call evaporated liquor? They must know their stuff, right? The decoration looks like a brothel, too. Perfect. Henri knocked on the door. [...] ~ Present day, around three to four o' clock in the morning. He stayed all night on his roof, scoping the dimly lit streets, when he began spotting fires emerge, one by one. Is there an attack? [...] The huge lock on the equally huge reinforced wood gate seemingly opens on its own, with a loud clack. A man with a dusty black hooded cloak and a blunt old claymore walks in, and the door closes itself behind him. After taking in the sight that befell-- A fresh trace of an explosion and crushed glass, bodies scattered on the ground, Yvonne and Chounan brutally adding more of said bodies, and two others dressed the same but aren't exactly in the fight... The man casually walked forward towards their direction, pulling down the multiple layers of cloth that aimed to occlude his identity. "Huh... Are you really doing this with just the three of you? I half-expected the full might of His Highness' army to be here." Henri pulled a shield from under his cloak, then placing it on his back. He glanced at the bandit behind Jazdia. It's strange, it felt like his eyes lied to him as his golem perception showed something different. Something elegantly dressed, with animal ears and a thick tail. He squinted. "..." He averted his gaze awkwardly. Best to not ask, or tempt trouble.</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan As the sergeant charging toward to Chounan. He made a step backward and quickly titled his body to avoid the fowarding thrust. His katana already unsheathed and its one his right hand. One of his foot stomped the weapon and push it forward to break the Sergeant's posture. As loose balance Sergeant met the reach, Chounan's blade struck through the Sergeant's throat. The suffocating Sergeant got kicked by Chounan to caught one of two other guild member following the Sergeant's charge. Let the remaining fool attack him while meeting a weapon with a deflection by a katana to lose the posture. The shinobi excuted a quick cut to charger's throat. He performed Chiburi and sheathed his blade and struck the remaining charger with a quick draw sweep before the charger regain his stand.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark ____________ "Honestly, I'm not much of a fan of all this violence. Why don't we sit this one out pal? Just us living to see another day. Sounds good, right?" "Whatever you say! I yield, let the bigwigs duke it out, ain't got nothing with them no more!" The crossbowman threw his weapon away, one hand still raised to block the maw of Kaito's spectral Lupo. Looking at the ongoing carnage, the thug better meant every word he said. Seeing that Kaito would keep his word, the thug skidded sideways, crawling before rushing for the door. Free and uninjured, one might wonder if such an act of benevolence was worth it, but the deed was done. ________ The Sergeant, despite having a cut on his throat was not dead yet. The samurai's blade tore his jugular artery but did not sever it. Adrenaline numbed the pain, and with bloody gurgles, he roared, making a second wind by rushing forward. Swift and unexpected, his last attack was delivered with sheer desperation and rage. The confident samurai was too quick to indulge in his premature victory, but was far from being unprepared, in an equally swift motion he twirled, evading the incoming onslaught, and retaliated with a quick swing against the sergeant's neck, decapitating him.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito looked on as Yvonne smashed someone's jaw in with her mace, while Chounan was decapitating the captain with a quick slash of his Katana. And this all happened right after Jazdia had blown a few of the thugs to pieces. It made the fox wonder if he should have killed that thug instead of making him throw away his weapons and have him run for his life. The Kitsune looked around and noticed that they had gained control of the courtyard. The Black Serpent members that had been present outside had all been taking care off and his group did not seem to have sustained any injuries. So far the operation went well. However inside the headquarters there might be more thugs waiting for them. The explosion in their courtyard should have been heard by the ones inside. Kaito made his way back to Jazdia as it was time to start the next phase.. "That went pretty smooth so far. Can you see what awaits us inside? I can go in as the captain if needed." Spoke Kaito as he pointed at the bodiless head of the man Chounan had just killed.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia shook her head in disgust as the samurai knelt before her. It was too late, and an apology could only do so little. Pathetic, she muttered, her blade was glowing brightly in response to Chonan's dishonorable attack, but she then decided, instead of ending this Samurai's life, she would rather save someone's life. The metal door toppled sideways after Jazdia slashed its hinges down. Seeing the glowing blade severing iron with fiery sparks, the slaves were horrified, confusion filled the room, some raised their hands in defense, and a few others cower at the corner, far away from the door and their executor's reach. Not in the mood to convince anybody, she hissed. "Leave!" and that was the only word she could afford to say. Near the exit, there was another chamber, blocked by another metal door with many locks. The door had a barred window, and if one peeked inside, they would see a child in her early teens imprisoned in that chamber. Her ankle was shackled to a heavy iron ball, and she sat on a stone dais with legs outstretched. Jazdia called, but the girl only tilted her head. She wore a ragged top tube and skirt with a distinctive pattern. She has curly brown hair and a beautiful face, blemished by dust but unscarred. A piece of cloth covered her eyes and she seemed to be heavily sedated. Jazdia could only imagine the unspeakable cruelty they put her through. Someone had to pay for this. She tightened her grip and slashed everything that holds the door to its frame. Hinges, latches, chains and locks alike, but the door wouldn't budge. Only when Jazdia touched the metal slab to push it down she realized there was a sealing magic that held it shut, and it was linked to one person. "Gerald, it must be him!" Without mentioning Chonan, she stormed for the exit and breached its door, reluctantly leaving the girl to her fate. Angry and bitter, she partially acknowledged that her anger was unwarranted. These atrocities were a common occurrence anywhere around the world, and she had seen a lot. So why this one affected her so much? "Miss Rosenving, this way." Their exit was a tunnel that leads to a circular arena. From here, the yelling becomes louder, and in it, Gerald's voice could be heard. Or she thought. Why she was so angry? Perhaps everything would be easier if she could find a way to justify... and atone.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword @wierdw @Randomness Having not gotten much sleep, along with drinking half of the whiskey bottle. Matilda was not feeling exactly peachy. Eating amount two or so plates of food, along with a surprising amount of coffee. But she was mostly eating rather quickly, as she wanted to head to Hdur as soon as possible. Feeling relieved when she got on her horse, putting on her helmet and looking down at Anderson. "Thank you, and I hope your travel back is safe as well." She hoped that Anderson and the others would get back home safely. The ride was not very eventful, Matilda was mostly deep in thought. Hoping to find some clue that would lead them closer to finding the prince. Scanning the area of the small rather quaint village, she wondered where they would start investigating. Firstly she wanted to investigate the names that Brik mentioned before, finding out where in the village the kidnappers visited. And grouping back with Jazdia's group, and figuring out what to do n She started by getting off her horse, and tying her steed to a post. "Let us split up and ask around to find those people Brik mentioned. While we do that, I will also head over toward the blacksmith. To see if anyone had purchased any equipment a few days before the kidnapping. We will meet back up at the local inn." She assumed that no one had any objections to her plan of action. So she headed first to the blacksmith, walking through the door her heavy footsteps could be heard a mile away. "Hello, I am Matilda Ironsword the head of the guards. I am conducting an investigation, and I need to ask you some questions. Firstly has anyone specious came to your store? And do you have a log of some kind of all of the purchases in your store?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne saw the slash coming but wasn't in the right position to stop it. Seeing it firsthand she had to reevaluate the threat level of this man, even her would likely be caught unprepared if she's already in striking range. Dangerous. She'll survive any blow that wont kill her outright, but decapitation was not among the list. He stopped, though. Stabbed his own arm like a maniac. And just like that it's done deal. Yvonne blinked twice and decided to screw it, if Sparky wasn't dealing with that crap she wouldn't either. Didn't sit quite right leaving a potential threat on their back, but with the primary arm injured he should be manageable now. "Worse come to worst, we can break down the wall from the neighboring chamber. Dont let your anger blind you, boss." Temper can be useful. Can make men and women fight without an ounce of fear. But it also tend to blind them from danger, dragging their foe down with them if they had to. Let's not let it come to pass. Yvonne saw the outlook and slowed down, remaining out of sight from what she felt like an arena. If Sparky weren't stopping, she'll grab the elf by the shoulder. "Some plan first, maybe? If our man is elevated it'll be hard to get him. Try see how it looks like?"</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito felt relieved as Chounan's blade stopped right before Jazdia's neck. The kitsune could not stand to lose the elf as she was one of the few people he genuinely cared for. Just the fact that the samurai attacked his friend angered the fox beyond anything he had ever experienced. It was only after the worst of tension had cleared from the air that Kaito realized that he had pulled out his sword for two thirds out of his sheet already. Kaito hardly ever resorted to violence and the fox pulling his sword was a big thing. It wasn't entirely clear to Kaito what happened to Chounan. It was as if he was controlled by his own bloodlust. It could be magic, a Yokai or something far worse. Whatever it was, the fox wasn't sure if this was only a one time event. The situation seemed resolved for now but Chounan could no longer be trusted. There was no telling if and when he would slip into that state of mind again. It could be today, tomorrow or in ten years. But when he does, it was very likely that no one would be safe. Kaito wanted to ask if Jazdia was alright but she just stormed off. Cutting through locks and chains furiously and commanding the freed slaves to just 'leave'. It was clear to the Kitsune that the elf was not herself at this moment. He could see the fury burn in her eyes like an endless raging inferno. She was on a warpath. A path of destruction as she frantically looked for a victim to take her anger out on. It was a path that she would later regret taking. Kaito took one last look at the kneeling samurai and ripped a piece from his shirt and threw it towards the man.. "Go patch your arm up. I'll deal with you later!" Spoke Kaito harsly before storming after the Elf. When the fox finally caught up with the elf he placed his hand gently on her shoulder. "Jazdia, wait. You need to calm down. I know you're angry. And you're in your right to be. The Black Serpent Guild is a dark place, run by cruel men who deserve every punishment that is on your mind right now but you need to remember why we're here. We need Gerald alive. We need to approach this with a level head and clarity otherwise this whole mission will become an even greater shit show then the Chounan stunt and things will end badly. For you, for me, for Yvonne and the slaves you just set free." Kaito paused and looked the Elf concerned in the eyes. "Everyone here relies on you to make the decisions, the decisions that make the difference between us completing the mission and making it out alive or running to our deaths. We need you… I need you...the true you. So please calm down."</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan was the last entered the Arena. He put his yumi bow and his quiver full of arrows on the ground behind the backline of the party. He went straight to Jazdia and speak, "You should go to backline, Miss Jazdia. Let us main frontline be in front. My bow and arrows are all yours, so that you can use it when you run out of your main. It's better to tag along with their play, we can't win against overwhelming odds from here and the high grounds." As he sheathed his katana, he threw his scabbard on the ground, same thing with his wakizashi. It seems that he is Ambidextrous and the katana still handing with his injured armed. Kaito maybe know what Chounan's thinking as threw he his own scabbards and a missing cuirass on his body. Chounan will rely on cunning as he is light footed and no longer restricting his agility. Dropped items: - Ebira. An odd foreign looking quiver that currently hold 3 dozen of arrows. These arrows called Ya and it punches stronger than longbow arrows due to a longer length. - Yumi bow. An asymmetrical bow come from Chounan and Kaito's origin. (Since you already have a bow. It can be sold for a high price due to the authenticity.)</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When in battle, keep the talking at a minimum. Especially at a close-quarter brawl, especially now! Just when she thought the vanguard would make their first move, the two midgets hurled their nets at her. Jazdia pushed her body backward to retreat as an archer should, but the big man kept his eyes on her. Nobody could have guessed how his leg could support that tremendous body, but he did; he made a long jump from his position, landed between Jazdia and Yvonne, and swung a centrifugal wide slash across the party, with Jazdia as the main target. The elf raised her bow to block the heavy blow, but the force was so great it wasn't merely throwing her off balance but also violently pushed her entire body backward and had it collide with the pillar on the right. The audience cheered in a thrilling stupor as the announcer enliven the match with his feverish commentary. "—OUT! The elven lady was caught off guard! That sudden jump knocks her off right before the finish—! ACROSS THE LINE—! The Punisher, from Wigerjurgen Crews, the butcher Knight!!!"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri followed the trail of blood, bodies, and debris that started at the unguarded large door, hanging ajar at the end of a disused looking alleyway, then moved further in. Another door hung ajar, this one made of sturdy iron. There were two dead bodies inside-- clearly slaves, given the leg irons-- who had been killed by some kind of sharp weapon. One had a nasty wound to the center of its head, and another had bled out on the floor from a nasty gash through its neck. Many empty cages and leg irons remained, either sprung open, or laying chained to the wall, but unshackled. He followed the trail of carnage with his eyes, and out another door to the side, where he saw familiar faces, and the sounds of a jeering crowd. What was this, some kind of arena? The realization that he had come here with no weapons at all irritated him, and made him seethe. He looked at the slaves in the pen again. His anger only got worse. Who in their right mind murders innocent people like that? Angrily, he touched the iron of their bondings and chains, willing them to come unraveled, then form a pool of red hot 'goo' at his feet, along with the door, then willed it into a new shape to go with the kite shield he had over his back: A rather large, and frightening double bladed broad axe, with deep beards. His eyes glowed a dull red from the combination of using his powers and being angry enough to rip this place down himself. If this was Jazdia's work, he would have choice words with her about this. Another door, with the peep window opened, was near to the one that had been left ajar, unopened. He could feel magic subtly humming inside, but not from the walls. He rocked up on the balls of his boots, and looked through the slit. A very young girl was inside, chained up, with her head tilted to the side, extolling a drug-dazed expresion from behind a blindfold into the otherwise empty room. Further, enraged, he considered his options. Trying to save her now would cost valuable time-- He wondered if that was why the group had not released her-- but the corpses in the prior room still bothered him. Perhaps it was GOOD that the door had not been opened? A loud baritone voice like a pit-boss announcer bellowed from the empty hallway. "There she is! Fiesty lady and her companions! Welcome! Welcome. I see that you are very eager to start! A shame that you are a bit late! Today's match should have been done-and-done! We had seen plundering! Crazy battles! Tight escapes and desperate chases! But fret not! It seems the fight is far from over Ladies and Gentlemen." FUCK. There was not any time left, it looked like those bumbling fools had gotten themselves ensnared in the arena-- He closed on the gate at the end of the hall. The portcullis gate had slammed down, but it lifted easily. A quick examination showed that the locks had been destroyed. What the fuck? Were they in there ON PURPOSE? He didn't give a shit, he would get his answers soon enough. Shouldering the still blistering hot axe over his shoulder, where it sent small tendrils of smoke from contact with his coat, he stomped toward the open arena door. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" he demanded angrily as he stormed in, the gate crashing down again behind him. He felt an odd tingle as he passed through the doorway, which sent a momentary flutter through his core....</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?!" The two other butcher-knight looked at each other dumbfoundedly. Though their metal helmet showed no expression, they seemed to be flabbergasted by the new guy's bizarre entry. One thing for sure though, they were not one to answer a question, they were here to fight and they would just deliver that. The trawlers managed to net the unsuspecting Henri, and it seemed to be their biggest catch today. Wasting no time, the Butcher-Knight leaped forward and bring down his mighty poleaxe to the ensnared man before he could defend himself, mercilessly hacking his hardened body.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito was relieved that Jazdia seemed a bit calmer after he had talked to her. He had kind of expected to get scolded by the elf but much to his surprise she told him not to worry and called him 'my little fox'. Much time to think or even respond to Jazdia words weren't given as the elf turned around and kept on moving forward. Leaving the fox behind with a blush on his face. The spectacle at the end of the tunnel was both terrifying and repulsive. It instantly answered the question on what the slaves in the other room were used for. The black Serpent Guild let them fight to the death for the entertainment of the crowds. And the last victim was turned to shreds by two tigers. Luckily Jazdia took care of those magnificent animals before they could become a threat to Kaito and his companions. However they now found themselves in a rather dangerous situation. Kaito looked around the large arena. The walls were too high to scale and above them was a large crowd of people that had been enjoying the sight of people killing each other. Despite them being uninvited guests, the commentator just spun it in a way that they would be the next entertainers to prove their merit in the arena. The fox took a step backwards as their opponents appeared from the other side of the room. Three buff guys with poleaxes and a bunch of midgets with nets to ensnare them. What worried Kaito the most was the fact that there was some magic at play that intervened with his powers. It felt as if he would not be able to use them at all in this arena. For a moment the Kitsune contemplated if they should retreat. He felt nothing for participating in this kind of entertainment and the odds didn't look in their favor. Especially with the magical barrier that intervened with their magic. However much time to strategize they didn't get as the Wirjurgen Crews made the first move. Two of the midgets threw their nets at Jazdia which she managed to dodge. However at the same time one of the burly men jumped forward and attacked her with his poleaxe. Sending Jazdia crashing into the pillar. They had to move now and move smart, Otherwise the situation would become very bleak. Ignoring the man who came rushing through the door shouting something about what was going on here, Kaito made his move. Quickly he pushed his wakizashi the first inch out with his left tumb and circled the burly man that had attacked Jazdia, placing himself between the elf and the man. Quickly the fox dashed forward, holding the tsuka with his right hand. Ready to attack with a draw cut while always keeping the other enemies in his peripheral vision. Just as the kitsune was about to enter the range of the poleaxe, Kaito leaped forward while executing his draw cut. Rather than striking at the man's body he used his wakizashi to strike at the poleaxe, pushing it aside while continuing to move forwards. Quickly he grabbed his dagger with his left hand and duck to attempt to cut the burly man's achilles tendon. He wasn't sure if the move would work but at least it would create an opening for either Chounan or Yvonne to strike and buy some time for Jazdia to retreat to the back.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Henri reached the dead giant while the bear was curled and nursing his battered groin. The lumbering creature probably wouldn't stay down long, so he worked fast-- once more searing off the steel helmet and pauldrons, filling the air with the acrid stench of burned meat. He could not smell it himself, having long ago lost that sense-- but he remembered well enough. The heavy plume coming off the giant would have risen a stench to heaven. As the metal flowed into him, he felt his legs begin to work, and the damage to his chest subside from the metal sealing the gaps between the cracks, and filling the shattered empty voids. He looked like an irregular jigsaw puzzle, of broken white shards and dark grey bands between them where the iron had solidified. He chuckled, then staggered up onto his feet. The repairs were not that great; Iron was tough, but lacked the hardness and strength of the ceramic, and was much heavier. His legs threatened to bend in ways that were not conducive to walking with each step, but at least he was upright. Yvonne looked spent, clutching her arms against her body with a grimace of her own. He waved at her and smiled. She only looked at him for a moment as the hairy brute stood up and once more started to lunge, a thick trickle of blood going down its rear legs, matting the fur. He crouched, then propelled himself forward by skating on the sandy ground, to dart between those legs, before turning over, and reaching up with both hands to grasp the breast plate in a bear hug. The bear had the metal he needed, and he intended to have it. The bear tumbled from the sudden increase in mass on his chest, and fell forward on top of henri-- an event he made full use of, despite several hundred pounds of usine bulk crushing him into the sandy floor. The beast bellowed, then tore at Henri's back with its clawed hands, but to no avail-- he had fused himself with the breastplate, and the center of it glowed red hot as it flowed around him like a shell, leaving the corners pristine and shiny, with an ugly blue, purple, and orange banding pattern surrounding where he had stuck himself fast to his opponent. He looked like a crucified man, stretched out over the beast's chest. "GET OFF GET OFF GET OFF!!!" roared the creature, as it rolled and tossed while tugging at the straps of the breastplate.</s> <|message|>Matilda Ironsword Looking over at the records of what had been shipped out, she could find nothing of use for her investigation. Although she did wonder if a load of armour and speartips had made their destination. "And could you direct me on a map where his house could be? Or perhaps you could write some directions of where his home could be?" Her eyes quickly looked over at the apprentice. Investigating Brik's house could bring some useful clues. But that would have to wait as she needed to investigate what she could in the village.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" There was a pregnant pause as Yvonne's strike found its mark, the announcer and the hag's voice a dull echo in a faraway place. Then the mercenary saw the bear regained his (heh) bearings, and for a split second she recognized what a bad spot she's in - attack already fully committed, now within mauling range of a very pissed off bear who just lost his crown jewels. Who's fault was it to land her in this situation? Riiight, it was past Yvonne. What a bitch- A heavy swipe filled with rage and little sense. The arena spun, the mercenary oddly serene as she reflected over the blow, noting that it's all blunt with no claw involved. Too angry to properly kill her, huh? Though, to be fair, this was normally enough to shatter an average man- Her thoughts was interrupted again, this time by the sandy gravel of the arena. Bounced once. Twice. Found orientation, didn't matter, bounce a third time. A final fall, and she's still. Ow. That hurts. Okay, let's see. Nothing was stomping over to finish her off. That's good enough for now, either the bear was in too much pain to move or her team managed to occupy it. Yvonne laid on the ground face-up, assessing her own condition for the time being. Quick version: Not good. Not good at all. In fact, she's feeling fucking terrible. Been a while. Anyway. Sore was the first thing she felt. Sore and bruised. As for where the bruise was, well, it's probably faster to ask where the bruise wasn't. Yvonne can only be sure that it's her neck - just about everywhere else throbbed with pain. Could taste iron in her mouth, huh. Must've split her lips in the impact. Elsewhere... Head felt fine. Can think. No pain from within, so brain should be fine. Breathing hurt. More than it should. And more difficult. Fracture there, then. Next, limbs. Right shoulder... didn't felt right. Heh. That's what impacted ground the first time. Probably dislocated. Gotta fix that soon. Left arm was struck by the bear, but no bleeding. Hurt like a motherfucker though, it'll bruise real bad soon enough. Legs were functional, likely with an additional mace-shaped bruise where her own mace was pressed to the flesh by the impact. First thing first, the shoulder. Boss - of the mercenary company, not Sparky - showed her how. Step one, sit up. Pain. But she sat. Right leg folded up, clasp both hands around it. Lean the head back, roll the shoulder forward- Click "Fuckshitbitchdamncocksuckermotherfuckingdirtywhore- that hurts-" It felt like she blacked out for a split second there. Yvonne very much would like to collapse back into a bruised heap, but the enemies wont wait for her to recover. Wobbling, she slowly and carefully returned to her feet before surveying how's the battle going on. The polearm wasn't around anymore. Didn't matter much, she doubt she can wield it effectively in this state. Sword drawn again, the mercenary glared at the faint trace of bloodstain on it. Tch, cleaning the scabbard will be such a pain. But that's for future Yvonne to worry about, after she survive this whole debacle.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Well ain't that a lengthy walk!" Quite a bit. Most travels were done on some sort of draft carts or wagons. "Cant say we've got special deal or nuthin', ya pay what ye eat but we've got a lot. Manifold your weight, I'd wager!" The farmhand gestured at the stall, before pointing at the field not far away. A good portion had been harvested, but the remaining was looking very much bountiful. "We have pork in here, if that's yer thing. Got lots of pumpkin and squash. And potatoes, never could'a go wrong with taters. All sorta beans too! For vegs, lettuce and spinach and cauliflower. Ya can pick what ya want and tally it up later, or say how much ye wanna buy an' I'll tell ya when it's reached."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The blacksmith didn't look bothered at Matilda failing to find anything. Well, it would be weirder if she could find some dirt, as far as he knew there's nothing shady going on. He's making good living already, no need to dip fingers into muddy water. "Dont have map or anything here, I'm afraid." He noticed the glance. "But we can guide you. Oi, Timmy!" The apprentice in question immediately stood straighter. "Guide the good dame to the hunters' place, would you kindly? You know where it is, aye?" "Yesser! Right away! Uh, this way ma'am!" The youngster walked a total of three hurried steps before stopping, almost stumbling in the process, as he turned around to check if Matilda was keeping up. His ears reddened from the sheer embarassment as the other apprentices definitely saw it all happening.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito assessed the situation. The wolf was preoccupied with getting out of the net Chounan had tossed and would soon be free to attack the samurai. The werebear was a totally different story. That creature had managed to swat away Yvonne like a fly but had found himself in an even worse spot. The strange latecomer had somehow managed to fuse himself with the bear's armor and turned it into a frying plate. The creature was in absolute agony and tried frantically to get rid of the glowing hot torture device that was strapped to his now burning chest. Judging both creatures, it was clear that the bear was paying the least attention to his surroundings. The fox circled around the top right pillar, making sure to stay out of the rolling bear's field of vision as much as possible. For a moment he quietly observed the werecreature's movements from behind the pillar. Kaito knew that he had to deliver an instant fatal strike. If he would give the bear the chance to retaliate, he would be in grave danger. The moment the suffering bear rolled with his head into the direction of the pillar Kaito initiated his strike. Lunging forward from behind the pillar the fox thrusted his wakizashi with all his might into the exposed head from the bear. The fox could only hope that he has enough strength to pierce through the werebear's tick skull.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Hdur, Kindeance --- With the map laid out on the table, together, Veronica and Solomon narrowed down the list of villages to only two. But given the greatly diminished time schedule, it was still going to be close to avoid all out war. The problem was that several of the investigation team had been injured, and though they were mostly healed to healthy condition, a lot of rest was still recommended. Furthermore, there was the matter of the mage girl locked up stairs. "If we were to depart within the next hour, acquire a wagon, and took a more direct path, we could arrive at the closer of the two marked villages by this time tomorrow. If need be, I have the means to scout the other village in a similarly timely manner. However, my methods will not allow me more than gather information. It is something you can ask me to keep in mind should the need arise." Solomon ran his finger along the map from Hdur, to the closer of the villages Veronica had narrowed down. Most of the trail followed the paths, but cut through some of the planes and low lands where the trails curved or forked. The journey would take two days on foot, less than a day on horse. But given the nature of some of their troop, if a wagon was needed, it would be longer than horseback, but still faster than walking. But then there was another matter to attend to. "If I may ask, what of the girl currently in Cedar's care? As I understand, she is volatile and unpredictable. It could be dangerous to leave her alone. In time she will recover. I have not experienced the power you and yours expressed, Madam Jazdia, so I do not know how she would act, even with Cedars care. It usually takes more than a day to change the state of mind of one in her condition."</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito watched as Nina went inside. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable with the idea of leaving the hostess of the inn alone with the mage girl. You never know if she would get another violent outburst again and repaint the ceiling with the intestines of Nina in the process. If that would happen then Jazdia would not be too pleased. However the idea that the bear sensed no magic on the girl comforted the fox a little. It was probably going to be fine. Thinking back on her brutal assault, it was unlikely that she would focus her anger on Nina anyway. That mage girl seemed to have only used her explosive powers against the elf and Yvonne. Both of the girls had treated her former master with little respect afterall. The fox smiled at the bear with a bit of amusement as the giant furry creature tried to comfort him about his foxy appearance. However he had completely misjudged the reason for why he was hiding his true appearance. It was not that he was ashamed of how he looked. He loved his ears and tail and had zero problems flashing them around in public. Well actually one problem. Humans tend to dislike him for taking their money, valuables, wives, daughters, husbands and whatever other stuff he feels like taking in that. The list of people who have beef with Kaito was pretty long. "Thanks, but I am not ashamed of how I look or anything. It is more about that I have a rather liberal view on ownership of stuff. That often does not go well with society and there are a lot of people who have good reasons to dislike me for it and act upon their anger. I just prefer not to be easy to track down. The name is Kaito by the way." Looking at the bear, it made the fox wonder how such a nice guy ended up in the company of thieves and killers. "How about you? You seem way too nice and caring to be involved in this kind of work. How did you end up being surrounded by mercenaries and warriors?"</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia eyed the black-haired woman, sighing to imply that she was unsatisfied with the answer. If the answer was 'We simply don't know', such elucidations were redundant at best. Even then, she tried her best to smile. "The only thing that prevents Fred from mobilizing the whole army is his desire to maintain political stability, and certainly not because of tactical reasons. No, unlike us who dabbles extensively on elaborated plans to ensure surgical action, field affairs are a mere trivial matter to him. Miss Veronica, you said it wouldn't be wrong to plan for the worst-case scenario, and indeed, it wouldn't be wrong. But it is one of many plans and possibilities we can put our bets on--" Jazdia grimaced, the pain on her hand throbbed again to protest her decision to move away from the source of heat. The elf, slightly irritated by the notion that those people would force her to fight despite her injury, the elf dropped all the formality. "So far, your preparation for this worst-case scenario is go there, as soon as possible and be prepared to assault their strongholds. Considering my condition right now. I don't think I can agree to this plan." Jazdia leaned to her chair, her expression was stern. "I am not here to risk limbs-- no, not even a finger to entertain a farfetched possibility, even if it turned out to be true. Your Prince's life is precious, and so are my life and the people under my command. If Fred wants me to help finding his son, he has to be patient." There was an eerie silence. Matilda was clearly not amused with Jazdia's lack of gentility and the elf was stubborn as ever. Finally, under that iron helmet, came an affable yet restrained interjection, offering a compromise. "There's no need to commit to an extreme. We can depart in a few hours after taking care of the preparations, we do lack the horses to make the trip. Spend the night elsewhere, or simply camp out. Come to the morrow we'll be much closer to our objective, wherever it may be. Hell, it'll probably afford us enough time to check both in the worst case. Is this agreeable?" Though there was an apology from Veronica's side, and the compromise was intended to accommodate her situation, Jazdia remained immovable. "It will have to do," said the black haired woman diplomaticially. "We will depart tonight..." said Jazdia sharply. "Half hours before midnight and not a minute too early or too soon."</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's expression boggled for a second, before changing to a somewhat worried expression. "Wai.. wut? But yas... an' is jus' you an' me in da hall..." he stammered, before leveling out and refocusing his thoughts. "Ya aint plannin' on ROBBIN' me is ya? I ain't got nutin' really wort' stealin' nohow. Purdy much jus da clothes on muh skin. Why ya gots at disguise up fer? An' why ya stealin' from hones' folk fer? Mos' jus' barely gittin' by. Life hard fer jus' 'bout e'rybody ya know?" He shrugged. "Why I's 'ere? Wit' all 'ese people?" He looked distant for a moment. "well... As kin'a compl'cated. Apparently, "It a crime" ta keeps an eye on the fellar as lives in at great big stone house, when tryin' ta keep 'im safe. I was all lockted up fer a whole week, an' beat with a stick, wit'out food. Real not nice peoples-- I's only le' ou' by at Matilda lady-- Rush' straig' in, and den straig' out. Da village near where I's lives be in real dang'r if'n war break out. I's comes mos'ly fer 'em, e'en if they ain't the nices' ta me. I dun wan' muh home burned any more an' they does. As fer how I's foun' out? Well... As a LONG convr'sation. Ya sure ya in fer it?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] That's one side pacified. As for the other... well. Matilda stared back at the elf, nonplussed at the complete stubborness. Independent contractors like this were always a headache to deal with, moreso when their service was tied to the crown instead of herself. Calm down. Deep breath. "Moving after dark is hazardous. Explain why you think it's a good idea." Was the demand from the orc. Even if she's willing to delay, if there's some way to minimize it she damned well would try to make it happen. Matilda wouldn't mind taking only those who could get combat-ready by tomorrow, if it really came to that. "Anderson, your tasks. Take guardsman Gordon back to the capital. Keep his survival secret for now, and keep him and his family secure. Beside that, send for six horses and an enclosed cart here as soon as possible. And finally, a message for the king." Matilda went for a paper to write down the result of Jazdia's investigation, including the speculation that clan Delving was involved in the entire debacle. She didn't seal it in wax or anything, but she trusted the squire enough to deliver it without any mishap. "That is all, you can go now." "I'll have it done in the shortest time possible." Anderson nodded and turned to leave, when... "Hey hey Andy, do me a favor yeah? My stuff's at the inn still and I dont think I'll be back anytime soon. Take care of it yeah?" Yvonne grinned, tossing a key at the unamused but very much compliant squire. "Owe you one, bud."</s>

<|message|>Kaito The fox could not keep himself from laughing as he pictured himself in the bear's clothes. The guy was simply so much bigger than him that he would literally drown in his robes. "Don't worry about it. I doubt your clothes are a good fit for me. Honest folk are hardly ever worth stealing from. They already get regularly emptied of their stuff by the nobles. If you want to make a good life thieving you got to go after the more dishonest folk. They got all the good stuff. However there is little room for error when doing that. Those guys at the top are quick to have you thrown in jail or executed." For a moment Kaito listened quietly to the bear's story. He wanted to prevent a war between Meche and Kindeance to save his village from hardship even when the people in it treated him like shit. "I see. I've had the honor of being a guest of the king as well. Shame he housed me in his dungeon. I guess I deserved it. Anyway, it is really nice of you to risk everything to prevent a war for people who treat you as shit. I doubt I would have done it. I guess my heart is rather small compared to your's." Kaito paused as he looked at the door where the girl was behind. All was still quiet. No sounds of explosions or fighting so that was a good thing. "I don't know when we're going to move out again. We'll hear it sooner or later. I guess there is still time for your story." Spoke the kitsune as he dropped the illusion that obscured his tail and fox-ears.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [NPC Post] Reinhold whistled as the bridge collapsed into the river, dark chunks of stone falling into inky-black depth as the current hungrily devoured the structure until all that's left where the head and tail end of it. Yeah, that'll stop them from leaving alright. Then it's only a matter of- "Wait, what? Leaving?" Seemed like he was too hasty. Of course these folks will ensure their companion's safety for the moment. Oh well. What's a few more hours, right? "I suppose that's prudent. I'll stay here, might as well keep an eye on them. You can find me in the hilly region east of the village." The sentries atop the fort was shouting in alarm, barely audible even from this far out. At least one of them saw the explosions, and despite the dark of the night there's still faint trace of moonbeams that gave enough sight of the bridge collapsing. Well, if they didn't know that they're under attack they could be certain now.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia's horse barely moved a few distances when Kaito asked. ""What do you mean in trouble? What did she say, do you have any intel on their situation? Did they run into an obvious trap based on intel too good to be true? " "She said nothing important, the usual." Jazdia pulled the reins a bit harder than usual, causing her mount to slightly recoiled in protest. She wasn't an animal lover sort, but after a gentle tap on the neck, the beast had calmed down. "From what I heard, Matilda was trying to force an entry into a building or trying to open something. She triggered a tripwire or god knows what I guess. Explosion ensued. The comms stopped working after that." Jazdia nodded at the hunter, who had expressed his intention to remain here. "Good Idea. Tell the bear that we are regrouping with Matilda and to... uh stay here until we returned. Or whatever." Seeing the doctor has already joined them, the party started their journey back to Pesti. Although time was against them, they did not force their steeds to gallop and opted for a more steady pace. They would need the horses in top condition on their way back to Fanghorn. Hopefully. Riding side by-side, Jazdia noticed the gloom on Kaito's face. "You don't seem very happy. Mind sharing it, little fox?"</s> <|message|>Kagetane Chounan Chounan had been overwatching the party from a good vantage point. He went along with Veronica as the time the pale girl seperated the party to took someone who meant for integration. A good distance behind the pale girl, he witnessed her how to fight in shadows. He was impressed. As they regroup to Matilda's party along with a taken hostage, he switched back for overwatching the whole party. When the time the explosion occurred. Assume that reinforcement will come. Chounan spoke to Veronica. "Lady Veronica. Keep an eye of Lady Yvonne and Dame Matilda. I will welcome our guests.". He jumped down from vantage point and mounted his horse and ready his katana. The incoming unorganized wave of mercenary group were welcome by himself from unexpected flank. Master of jocking gave Chounan and his horse a good maneuvery and dodging on incoming attacks. The kicks of the horse hooves is his offense and his katana is his additional defense as for deflecting both melees and range attacks against him and his horse. He enjoyed high ground advantages and he have Ki and Perfect counter during the initiation.</s> <|message|>Kaito Jazdia's comment about Kaito not looking too happy caught the fox by surprise. He was always under the impression that he was pretty decent about hiding his feelings but the elf once again cut through his mask like it wasn't even there. For a moment he just stared at his companion wondering what he should say. Even though Kaito was generally the most talkative person of the group, talking about his feelings was something he was not particularly good at. Maybe it was because he has a history of manipulating others and was afraid of having his own feelings used against him. Or was it because he did not understand what he was feeling himself. The fox turned his face towards the road again as their horses dashed forward. For a moment there was this eerie silence. He could not hide it and saying that there was nothing would surely not convince the elf. "It's just…." began the fox. "It's just that I saw this coming. I tried to talk some sense into Mathilda and you about that the Pesti info was too good to be true and most likely a trap. I understand that you want to cover all bases but it just feels like I'm being ignored and that my opinion isn't valued. That kind of frustrates me and now stuff is a mess." Kaito paused and looked at Jazdia. Wondering if he somehow sounded like he was antagonizing her or as some entitled asshole. "I'm not good at stuff like misdirection, manipulation and scheming because of my magic. It's that I am good at my magic because I understand how to misdirect, manipulate, scheme and stuff like that. I understand to a certain degree how people think and how I can use that to my advantage. Our enemy does that too. That is why they set up a trap that Mathilda would walk right into, forcing us to take our eyes off Fanghorn." The kitsune turned his eyes to the road again, watching the trees move by as they made fast progress towards Pesti. "Anyway….we should focus on the task at hand. The only intel we have is that there was an explosion. If we can't get into contact with anyone on her team we should approach Pesti really carefully. Mathilda and the other could be all dead and our enemies could have set another trap for us to walk into. It is pretty obvious that our enemy's first priority for now is to get rid of us."</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark "Mess? No, not all. This is still within my calculation. Fred wanted to use me as a pawn, I simply did the same to his subordinate. Hurting Matilda means the Noble in charge of these lands can be held accountable, and his next move will be easier to observe. I simply prefer to have our dear captain take the brunt. Remember that she is the leader in this investigation, and was eager to go to Pesti. The decision was taken as the compromise." Jazdia's voice was as cold as the morning air, and it stayed that way when she continued. "Our enemy is trying to get rid of us? You don't say! I don't know how to say this without making you feel undervalued, or making me look confronting, but you are stating what both of us had already aware of, and yet the big question still remained; How would we deal with it? Jazdia closed her reply by giving the fox a searched look.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Yvonne had no idea when did Chowder retrieved his horse, but there he came riding it into the throng of confused mercenaries. There's just one problem though - it was not a trained warhorse. The explosion earlier must've already startled it somewhat fierce, and then it's directed toward a bunch of screaming people and pointy object. As a result? It bucked the rider off and took off into the night. That embarassing little hiccup aside, the man's skill was the real deal. He dodged, deflected, and parried with ease even against increasing number, occupying enough of them that Yvonne didn't see much trouble going in. No one's getting killed either, surprisingly. Maybe mass murder could still be avoided. Swatting a young lad's spear out of his grasp, Yvonne shoved the little obstacle aside before entering the barn. Fire had started to spread now, unnaturally so. There's likely pitch or oil involved for it to be this bad. Thankfully Matilda wasn't hard to locate, laying on her back not far off from the center. That... didn't look good. The armor had prevented the worst damage to vital parts, but some of the weaker points and the joints was savaged by shrapnel. Not to mention that she's practically next to the source of the explosion. Compared to open wounds, shockwave injuries were silent and insidious. If someone's shanked in the gut at least it's clear what's the damage was, but ain't no telling if there's internal bleeding somewhere before suddenly the victim dropped dead. "Shit. Come on, big girl. Ain't time for a dirt nap yet." Lifting the orc was out of question, but Yvonne tested the cuirass and found it still holding together just fine so she grabbed and pulled it by the back of the neck. Keeping her stance low, the mercenary coughed as she moved as fast as she could out of the burning building. There were other bodies in there. Possibly other survivors, too. But she's not in any position to play the hero. One step after the other. Soon enough the burnt acrid air was replaced with cool night wind, and that's one danger out of. Still not all safe, though. Mercs were grouping up and organizing. Some of them stood in her way, and Yvonne's still too close to the burning barn for comfort. She reeeeally didn't feel like talking right now. Her free hand twitched closer to the mace's handle. Can she kill them? Let's kill them, yeah? Not far away was a group trying to corner Chowder. Non-lethal takedown was good and all, but proven to be quite difficult to do when they're covering for each other. It'll take some time to get it resolved... or an intervention from someone else.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito looked at his boss first with a bit of confusion and then started to smile. Jazdia had basically thrown the Orc under the bus. For someone dedicated to law, order and justice she sure had a more practical, darker side. A trait that the fox certainly appreciated. The elf's little scheme certainly had made his day. " Well played" For a moment the kitsune thought about the situation. So far their party had been reacting to the inputs of the enemy. If it was up to Kaito they should search for ways to gain the initiative and force them to react to their moves. When the other forces your hand, you're more likely to make mistakes. "hmm, I doubt we're gonna find the prince in Pesti. It makes no sense to place him on top of some bomb. Considering who went there my guess is we're gonna find a pile of corpses. If we're lucky Chounan and Yvonne might have kept someone alive to question. But if I was our enemy, I would not place anyone at a trap who holds valuable information on the op I'm running. We'll have to see if there is anything useful to get from Pesti" The fox paused a bit before he continued. "Anyway, we should extract our resources and hope they are in decent shape after triggering the trap. If the prince is really in Fanghorn they have two options; stay put in a well defended position or relocate to somewhere else. They will be more vulnerable on the road than in the castle. So I think it is safe to assume that they will stay put. Especially if their trap did not take out a good chunk of the pursuers. It's not like we can lay siege to the place with just 8 people." "So we either need to come up with a way to get into the castle or a way to force them to leave and hit them on the road. Like torching the place down to the ground or having the king send an army. Would he make a move now that his favorite orc got blown up?</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Yvonne was skeptical at their decision, but far from her to question the team leader. Just, no one would fault her for looking around to see potential escape routes and whatnot. You know, just in case. A mercenary always had to be on lookout for their own well-being or they die quickly and usually embarassingly. The door's the most obvious one. It only fits one person to create a bottleneck for the defenders, but that meant it opened outward. She'll probably be able to force it open as long as it's not barred from the outside. Then there's another door at the other side of the room, deeper into the structure. Desperate, but it's an option. The windows were too narrow to even consider, damn the sensible construction. Not as much options as she liked, but plenty. Worst come to worst, she can always take the baron hostage. "Fancy breakfast there." Whistled the mercenary, looking at the vast array of foodstuff in front of her. Was the food poisoned though? That's the issue here.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar nodded appreciatively at the baron, but said nothing until after the servants had displaced several of the chairs, and replaced them with a low but sturdy bench. He had something similar in his cabin, but with a much less elaborate (and much taller) table. He would have to lean over to use this one. The cutlery was fashioned for much smaller, and more delicate hands. So much for manners. He moved to the edge of the bench, such that most of his weight would be over one set of its legs, then sat down; a loud creaking being the only voice if opposition to his presence at the table. He had to admit, that was more hospitable than he was used to, and for some reason that made him wary and uneasy. This 'baron' von 'whatshisface' was being TOO hospitable. He discretely sniffed at the air, taking in the room, the food, lingering scents from prior occupants and activities, while glancing about. ... Why did they try to distract him with food? That had to be the most uncivil thing about this: teasing a poor bear like this, and especially in the fall! He HAD to keep his head about this. HAD to.</s> <|message|>Kaito Kaito looked at all the food that was being served by the baron to their party. For a moment he wondered if it would be poisoned. That would be an easy way to dispose of his little group. And would not make less of a mess then decapitation, stabbing through the heart or getting quartered. That would certainly be his preferred method if he was in the Baron's shoes. Somehow judging from Yvonne's hesitation she was thinking the same thing. For the moment the fox decided not to start gobbling down on the food and wait to see what the others would do. For now focussed on the Baron instead. There was always something to be learned from engaging in conversation with your enemy. " Baron Von Kruber. Let me first thank you for your generous hospitality and your unwavering loyalty to the crown. Something our king greatly appreciates in these times. My name is Sir Jurgen Von Drexel, knight to the king's court. It's an honor to reside at your court." Kaito had deliberately chosen a similar sounding fake name of a lesser known noble house in order to create a sense of familiarity between him and the baron. His next move would be to engage in friendly conversation, building up the relationship and softening up the baron's defenses before moving on to topics where the good old baron did not want to slip his tongue. "You have two sons right? How are they doing? I heard your youngest is going to come of age soon. Has he found a good tutor to squire for?"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The massive arrangement of food was a treat to the eyes and nose. With farming as their main industry, Fanghorn's produce was on the top of the line. Among those, only the best of the best made their way to the baron's pantry. The porridge was piping hot with sweet milky smell to it. Freshly baked loaves of bread in various size came alongside soft golden butter. Rich assortment of fruit was sent in various bowls, berries of different shade and apples and figs and half a dozen more. Cold cuts of meat with faint fragrance of smoke and salt was served next to savory bacon, its oil still sizzling from the heat. Eggs, too, was aplenty, from softboiled to scrambled and everything inbetween. While the choice of drink wasn't as plentiful as the food, there's still quite a bit. A servant stood attentively on the side, a small table holding various glass pitchers on it. There's chilled water, for one, and what looked like milk, but the rest were a riot of color that reminded one of the fruits on the table. One only need to ask to get their cup filled. Whether encouraging or suspicious, none held any trace of malevolent addition. Whether to human, elf, or bear senses. "An honor to have you at my table, Sir Jurgen!" If the baron noticed any apprehension from his guests, he didn't show it. He took a bread from the nearest basket, slicing through to reveal the white insides before generously lathering butter on it. "Why, my good sir, you know a lot about me! It shames me that I cant say otherwise. My boys are... doing very well, they're currently visiting a distant acquaintance with my wife. As for tutor, well, I had some talk with Sir Caspar a while back. Nothing decided yet of course, but it's looking good I'd say!"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar eyed the baron cautiously, and waited for the man to actually take a bite before even permitting himself the very idea of taking any of the food. If there were to be a torture special made for a being such as he, this would be among the top contenders. A powerful instinct to lay claim to the entire table and eat like a beast until he could no longer swallow (then continue trying to eat anyway, should any food still be present) was clawing and howling in the back of his psyche like a rabid dog, while the dignified and human part of him struggled and fought to retain composure and control. Remaining quiet and dignant in posture and poise amidst this assault on his senses was pure existential agony. He doubted his companions truly realized the degree to which his self-control was being tested by this exchange. Had this truly been a genuinely friendly invitation to dinner, from a truly trusted friend, he would have been at ease, and indulged in a way only a true and real friend would have understood, but that was not what this was. This was a fattened hog placed over a vicious trap, hungry and eager to ensnare... or at least, had every potential to be. The cruel memory of being trapped in the Rascade dungeon was about the only mental defense he could bring to bear against this most heinous crime of civility. He did his best to not shake, and discretely swallowed the drool that was threatening to baptize his face if not attended to. 'For fuck's sake, don't drag this out!' He cursed inwardly at his companions. They were likely completely oblivious to the thin vaneer of composure that was holding back the flood...</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Well, the baron's eating. Didn't seems like he cared which plate he grabbed from either. Not fully reassuring, but it's a start. Yvonne, who out of complete total and utter coincidence (yeah right) sat the closest to the rotund man, casually reached over for bread from the same basket. The motion was a bit awkward since it's not exactly in an arm's reach, but who cares - if anyone complain at all she'll shoot it down. It was a damn good bread, actually. No wonder the baron grew so fat if he's eating like this every single day. Now, hmm. Maybe an apple. Surely there's no way to poison fruits? She just started peeling it on the spot and bite into the flesh. Nice and crisp, juicy, with the right amount of sourness. And hopefully not poisoned. Surely the man didn't employ some sort of nefarious witch capable of poisoning an apple? That would be too much of a fairytale.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark - When the baron started eating, so too Jazdia started scooping her oatmeal. Not because of suspicion, but genuinely due to respecting the host himself. It was not proper table manners for a guest to eat before the host started digging. As for the concern regarding poisoned food, she would know it on the first bite, and so far nothing seemed out of ordinary, being an elf and food connoisseur herself, she had great confidence in detecting and avoiding that kind of old-fashioned assassination. The Rosenving daughter was eating as well, probably having a similar mindset. Jazdia herself was already on her third scoop and washed it down with some milk. "Nice place." Said Jazdia, glancing at the corners, and dusty furniture, and ceiling before turning to the host. "Very vintage yet a rare style nowadays... I always have things for unique decorations, you see. I own a restaurant and our patrons like it when we change the decor that matches the season. And you have a great cook too."</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Indeed! Being a bit far from the capital is no excuse to not keep up a good appearance, is it? I'll make sure the cooks get their commendation, they've done great job today." Baron Otto seemed to be eating slowly, yet the food just... disappeared into his gullet. Buttered bread, vanished in seconds. Scrambled egg, it took him longer to sprinkle the cheese than it took him to inhale it all. A few bacon and sausage followed, barely two chew between them. All without breaching decorum or looking the slightest bit distracted - it's like the man had perfected eating as an art. He took a sip from his cup before continuing the conversation. "I believe I hadn't caught your name, miss?"</s>

<|message|>Kaito Noticing how the baron followed by Jazdia started to eat without dying, Kaito figured that the food should be at least safe enough to not die instantly and grabbed a piece of bread as well. It was surprisingly tasty and the fox quickly grabbed another bite. When finished chewing it all down, he turned his attention towards the baron again. "We knights tend to talk a lot in between all the training and missions we do. So news and stories kind of travel fast that way." The kitsune paused a bit as the elf took the word. Fitting that she started about the food and the furniture. Baron Von Kruber's hall was indeed rather retro. "I've heard many good tales about Sir Caspar. I'm sure he will be a great tutor for your son. It must be lonely with the baroness and your boys visiting an acquaintance. Do you get many visitors at your castle?"</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Jazdia suddenly regretted giving that suggestion. Not only the valuable food was haphazardly tossed, but now there was a bear snorting... a mixture of nasal and food matter onto the floor. Regardless of the despicableness of its owner, a dining room was supposed to be a sanctuary free from any filth and misbehavior. And now it has been soiled so badly she almost felt sorry for the Baron. "Jaz, can you see how many people are coming?" "Two dozen or so. It's like a bloody convention up there." As critical as their situation seemed to be, it took those henchmen a while to descend to the second floor. Enough for Kaito to cast a spell to make a copy of themselves. The bear stood close by, now brandishing a polearm stolen from a nearby display, instead of, you know the old-fashioned maulings and biting. "That's very human of you. And piked weapon?" the elf groaned. "Why does everyone in this country so obsessed with polearms?!"</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" The breakfast went on... and on... and on... What's the baron saying? It's rather distorted, like trying to listen underwater. Speaking of the baron, he's so round. A giant hamster sat at the head of the table, munching on a piece of oversized lettuce. Then suddenly the wall broke down in a shower of rubble, where a massive lindwurm entered with a deafening roar. The oversized lizard kept roaring for a while, spittle flying all over the place like rain. Yvonne covered her face to shield it from the worst splatter, peeking once it's over to see captain and the others surrounding the beast with long pikes. It's cornered, good. The mercenary hefted her own pike, aiming for the face as she- -fell right through the earth, into the deepest pit of the void, jolting awake just as she unceremoniously tumbled on to the cold floor. She caught the tail end of the fox's instruction. Blinking the confusion away, her body moved before her mind fully caught up as she briskly moved and plastered her back against the wall. A glance around. Table full of sleeping people, including the baron. The table itself was a mess, as if someone had tried their best to flip the entire thing. A fast-approaching stomping from the stairs. The exit closed shut. Huh, they've been had. And if none of them started dropping from poison, the food must've been a distraction. "Polearms are great, Sparky! Stab the foes while remaining safely far-ish away, what's not to like?"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" "I prefers muh stick, bu' dis'll do. If'n I's gonna do a feller in, it gonna be done like a man. I ain't no beast girl. Ain't ya been payin' attention? I's only half bear." He gruffed and took position near the wall opposite the others, where he would get full room to swing when cracking heads. "O'er half's man. Don' be fergittin. We kin talks about it la'er, af'er we kicks sum good-fer-nuthin's butts." "Naptime's o'er ol' timer. Ya kin sleep when ya dead." He huffed at Reinhold, before gently prodding him in the butt with the point of his new toy.</s> <|message|>Solomon Sparrow Solomon Sparrow Location: Fanghorn, Kindeance --- Well, Solomon was right. The whispers were nefarious. Intense whispers led to a harsh scream. Be it magic or otherwise, it gave Solomon the impression a banshee. It didn't matter too much. He considered himself lucky. A lich never sleeps. As for the staff, the baron, and some of his party members, they fell as their minds went unconscious. For what felt like an uncomfortably long time, the room became eerily silent. And then Cedar almost drowned in oatmeal, and Yvonne fell out of her chair. Kaito seemed unaffected by the spell as well, quickly thinking of a plan to hide, casting perfect duplicates with his illusions. Rather than hide straight into the wall, Solomon's body became black, resembling the shadows he commanded throughout the morning, and merged within the shadows of the room, leaving not a trace of him even if the illusions were not present. He also willed for August to engage. Not to enter the keep, not for now. Instead, August was going to keep the mages dismantling Cedar's mana pools busy. He was to stealthily restore the mana pools Cedar had planted from below the earth. By doing that, he was allowing the thorny vines to resume rapidly growing. Hopefully in this way, those mages would be too occupied to lend aid to the men inside the keep. As for the troops already making their way down, Solomon didn't have time to prepare any of his usual antics when it came to conflict. Appearances were made to be kept, and the enemy unknown. Furthermore, he didn't have time to summon a more combat oriented ally. So far the only thing that kept him in the room was the unknown entity's ability to detect shadows, and him leaving might prematurely reveal Kaito's illusions. He wouldn't be the first to act. If opportunity arose, he might be able to use the soldiers against themselves, if not summon another undead ally.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] The stomping behemoth of a man turned the last corner, a flash of rippling muscles and violently red warpaint appearing for a split second before he triggered the magical arrow. The hall shook from the shockwave, but from it the large man emerged with a bunch of laceration on the surface of his skin but otherwise looking none worse to wear. Curiously, not a droplet of blood could be seen flowing out of the wound. "Gahahahaha! Now that's a nice warm welcome! Come-" He blinked around, looking at a table full of sleeping people. There's a mix of actual sleepyheads and illusion, including Chounan with a bowl worth of oatmeal dripping down his head and on to his lap. "Oh COME ON, they are ALL asleep?!" The clear disappointment was palpable in his voice as he lowered an oversized, rust-brown greataxe he was brandishing. Hidden beneath the false wall, Yvonne had to suppress a groan as she saw who exactly had just walked in. Great. Of course it's this asshole. No wonder nobody heard about him lately, he ran off here. Would've been great if he died in a ditch somewhere, but it's plain that evil never quite dies. "...wait, then where'd that trap comes from?"</s> <|message|>"Cedar" A hulking brute of a man emerged, seemingly unscathed, from the smoke and dust of the explosion. He was clad in little more than red warpaint and a tatty and stained loincloth, brandishing a rather oversized broad axe. For some reason, seeing an axe rankled Cedar's fur more than it should have, conjuring many memories of having to bludgeon foolish lumberjacks who had set eyes on trees they shouldn't, and bringing memories of his father lecturing him about not killing people, no matter how big of an asshole they are, unless you really and truly mean it. ("No matt'r haow big 'n dumb they is, Ya's big 'nuff ta prolly keel em in one hit if'n ya ain't careful son...") The memory of that first day helping his dad keep order against 'poachers' strolled through his head completely unbidden. ("I's seen what yas did wit 'at deer 'odder day... Good work 'ere-- Proud a ya...") He remembered. He had found a deer with an arrow stuck through its hock, where a village hunter had tried to shoot it, but it had bolted at the last minute, getting hit in a non-critical, and escaping with the arrow lodged in. He remembered that he had just learned how to heal injuries from Flo a few days before, and the opportunity to use the magic had been real exciting for him. He had coaxed the frightened and injured beast into letting him treat it, but was unaware his dad had been watching. His ears burned a little in embarrassment at the memory. ("But no ma'aer how good yas gets wit' 'at, no magic in'a worl' kin brings back da dead. Only keels a fucker when yas real damn good & sure. Naow, le's show 'is 'gentleman' da 'error' o' his ways, eh?") (Only if I really and truly mean it...) he thought to himself. Silently, he expertly flipped the pole-arm upside down, so that the blunt end was up, then aimed his shot, making a wide and hard sweep across the side and back of the man's knees. The hit had much more resistance than should have been there; like striking a stone that had a thin coating of dirt and moss. Not stopping from the anomalous impact, he continued the motion with full body momentum, whirling then bringing the bladed end down hard over the man's hands and forearms where he has holding the haft of the large axe. (I can totally fix mangled arms and legs, Dad.) he thought bemusedly to himself, before allowing his momentum to body-check the man into the table.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The big idiot was so busy with his opening speech that somebody was making a move at him. It was Cedar; the polearm swung expertly as if the entire country's penchant for blade-on-stick was not a mere moniker, even for the most uncivilized social caste. Not content on merely enjoying the show, Jazdia joined the fray, but with Cedar making his move and placing himself in her line of fire, Jazdia moved sideways. The arrow was enchanted immediately, but she took a moment to scan her surrounding; The door was there, a dozen meters or so. Still closer to them than to the enemy, and apparently locked. For now, that was the only detail she could conclude, for her eyes were already burning, and by pure instinct, the see-through vision wanes and returned to normal. She took some more side steps toward the exit, but not too far from her team. Lurea was drawn, and the big brute was staring eye-to-eye with another, yet more beastly brute when Jazdia's arrow launched toward his neck.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito watched as the hulking man entered the room. Somehow he seemed to be unaffected by the blast from the magical arrow. There were some lacerations on his body but somehow no blood was flowing from it. Something the fox found both intriguing and mildly concerning. If he doesn't bleed that means that the big guy isn't exactly human. So trying to go for human weak spots such as arteries might not work on him. The kitsune continued to observe the man in warpaint as both Cedar and Jazdia started to engage him. The fox was rather curious to see if the explosive arrow to the neck would have any effect on him at all. For all he could tell for now he could be some sort of golem. If that was the case, they needed to find out where his core was located. For now Kaito chose to remain hidden in the illusion while continuing to observe the enemy combatant in order to find out where he was vulnerable to the sort of damage the fox could do with his short sword.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] "Hmm?" The only reaction that registered the blow was a slightly surprised grunt, Ragnar's leg sliding an inch forward but that's it. The following slice produced more result, slicing into flesh yet nowhere as deep as it should. An angry red line was left, none of the blood escaping the wound. The northener himself didn't seems to be bothered at all as he recognize Cedar's ursine form, even as he's tackled with the full momentum of a bear. That one showed more effect, Ragnar's displaced bulk slamming to the table with dull thud. The table violently slid a bit from the impact, waking the two sleepyhead with startled "huh?". Then the arrow struck, its glimmering tips punctured through the brute's neck. Another arrow from Veronica followed, right into the eye, but with a shake of the head it missed the soft target and scored a light scratch on the forehead instead. Yet despite the supposedly fatal blow, Ragnar laughed uproariously as he let his axe go, reached, heaved, and tossed Cedar on to the armored newcomer running on top of the long table. "Gahahaha! Not enough! Not in number, not in strength! More! Ragnar shall take you all!" The northener reached down to grab his axe when Yvonne's figure bolted from the false wall, swinging the mace low through the legs with the full force of her inner strength. A meaty thud and dull snap echoed, followed by a much louder crack of the weapon's handle breaking in half. Still tapping into her strength, the mercenary kicked Ragnar back to the stairway he came from where he collapsed - and promptly get back up, no apparent discomfort despite one shin quite obviously broken inward. "Huh, what? Oh! Mad Blade! Here for a rematch, ain't you?!" "Piss off, you motherfucker." Yvonne rolled her eyes, grabbing the axe to slide it off all the way to the other side of the room. Unhurried footsteps from the stairs. An old man with slick, white hair and even slicker, whiter beards came into view, his entire attire practically screaming "pompous wizard". Formal, double-breasted frock coat the color of burgundy with silken lapel, trouser of the same shade, cashmere waistcoat, immaculately shined leather boots, and a fancy purple cloak to top it off. He carried an ebony walking stick, the handle studded with various gems with more adorning the fingers in the form of various rings. Clear grey eyes surveyed the room, an illusory monocle hovering over the right side as he focused his attention on Ragnar. "Downed already, Ragnar? I thought you northeners tougher than that." Behind him more footsteps echoed, coming closer and closer to the room. Sounds like mundane reinforcement, but even the strongest can still be overwhelmed with sheer number.</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar blinked in confusion as he landed on .. ... something? ... wearing kinderance parade armor. It's head was a glowing orb of mysterious animated fire, and it smelled like something long dead. The implication that this was one of Solomon's abominations danced across his mind riding the scent like a dance partner in a rapid 2-step routine. "Ya wan' summa dat? He harder'n he looks." He asked cheekily of the newcomer, who responded only with the impression of a 'smile' within the burning radiance that was the 'head', and a deep menacing chuckle. Cedar 'smiled' back, a rather frightful display of jagged and sharp ivory teeth that could easily have been mistaken for a snarl if not for the sparkling of his eyes and the alert and forward posture of his ears. "Heave-Ho fella!" He chortled, grasping the abomination by the bottom of the breast plate and a pauldron, then 'lance throwing' the creature right into Ragnar the Red's arrogant visage. He quickly looked around the room to see where he was now. The mysterious brute of a man had flung him near the door leading in, which was conveniently behind the false wall, and a short distance to the window. The table was a mess, but several of the beverage ewers were still standing. A man dressed like he shopped at the same store as Flo's brother, and nearly as old as his dad came tottering into view. He had learned from experience with his dad that appearances were deceiving when it came to the 'pulpiness' of such features. Sure, Vanquis was pretty spongy, but his old man was anything but. (Though the latter would only wear a getup like that around the house as lounge-wear.) The obviousness of his being a magician registered a split-second later. "Got a crooked ol' conjuror inna room!" he growled, hurriedly casting the well practiced spell to retune his senses to detect magic, while darting for the red linen curtains draped over the tiny window.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark Well, and here she thought both were on equal footing. After some dramatic lifting, the bear was thrown away like a potato sack and collided with a summonsed undead that Solomon had conjured from God knows when. The specter's reaction to his summoning was equally boastful, befitting his masculine voice and a full set of armor. Knight in... err ghostly armor? Good thing he didn't seem as difficult as his mannerism suggest. --until Cedar grab the guy and avenged the throw-away he received earlier to an unrelated bystander. Well, at least it closes the gap between them. Jazdia did not have enough attention to see the aftermath of their little game of undead ping-pong, her eyes caught a silhouette of an elderly man entering the room. "Got a crooked ol' conjuror inna room!" "Yeah, I can see that." Like the previous unexpected guests, this particular wizard pranced into the battlefield with an equally prideful boast as his big lackey was. Only less swaggering and more pompous. A quick ultravision on that wizard revealed a copious amount of magical nodes, probably coming from artifacts with unknown properties. As for Ragnar, the magical aura was more uniform and intense. So that explained his immense durability. Even when having one of his legs bent like a crooked branch, the man didn't seem bothered. The arrow was still lodging there, and she had imagined its glowing head would burn inside the man's neck-- cauterizing the wound. Wait.. did she miss his jugular? Or was the enchantment so sophisticated it was able to ignore physics? The fatigue in her eyes did not allow Jazdia to activate her ultravision right now, unless if she was willing to pay the price. Didn't matter! The enemy was here, and she had enough power to demolish the entire tower if she needs to. Drawing another fully enchanted arrow, Jazdia aimed at the wizard. "Hold it right there, not one incantation or you will see hell! You don't want me to be your enemy!" And there she was, joining the trend involving conspicuous remarks and prideful one-liners.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito smiled as he saw how Yvonne sended the big dude flying. The fox was still hidden well within the illusionary fake walls and the giant advisory did not seem to be able to see through the illusions at all. However his insane durability was certainly a drag. Even having its leg torn and an arrow in his neck did not seem to bother the guy at all. He either was some weird creature or greatly enhanced by magic. However, judging from the fact that he did not even seem to notice the illusions and utter lack of other magical properties displayed, the kitsune deduced that the enhancements would likely come from some external source, like that wizard that just entered the room. Jazdia seemed to be in a talkative mood, considering that she did not immediately put an arrow through the white bearded man's head. However Kaito did not share his boss's judgment regarding not immediately ending the old man's life. In the fox's book, wizards are a drag as they often have ways to mitigate his illusions. Unlike the big beefy dude, the Kitsune considered the old man a serious threat. Suddenly four Kaito's came rushing out of the fake illusionary walls, attacking the old man from four different directions. Three of them were illusionary. The first illusion came in from the left and went for the wizard's head. The second illusion came in from behind and stabbed towards the heart. The last illusion came in from the front with an attack towards the throat. All these illusions had one purpose, to draw the man's defenses away from the real target that Kaito was going for. As the fox rushed forwards, drew his sword and in one smooth motion slashed towards the hand holding the staff in an attempt to cut it clean off.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>"Cedar" The bearman stopped dead in his tracks as the glowing tessaract emerged from the vine encased barrier, then bloomed into a slowly spreading vapor that clung in the air. More unbidden, but potentially useful memories drifted through his head then back out again. He and his dad had been trying to contain and reclaim the 'fungally overgrown' section of their home forest. His dad had warned him about the dangers of inhaling mists and particles, but had offered him one of his shirts, which he had plunked in the nearby stream. "Don' breath 'at shi' in boy" he had said, while extending the wetted shirt. "Wrap dis 'round ya head, an' breaths through 'at." The memory left as quickly as it came. The ominous cloud of mist continued to slowly rise into the room, causing the leaves on the vines to wilt almost on contact. He DEFINITELY did not want to breathe that in. The pulled down curtain adorned the floor under his feet, which he quickly snatched up before scanning the room for something to wet it with. The elf woman's antics with the table had toppled all of the remaining drink decanters onto the floor rendering them useless for the task at hand. He needed something to wet it with, and soon-- As he hurriedly scanned the room, the realization that he had not gone to the little bear's room since Hdur came home to roost. He did not like the idea at all, but it was all he had to work with. Drawing and huffing an irritated breath, he hiked up the front of his robes, shoved the brilliant red curtain into place with one hand, leaned against the wall with the other, then relieved himself of the fluid fraction of the stew he had ate the previous day, until the curtain was sopping wet, and the pungent odor of "male bear" hit his nose-- which wrinkled at the prospect of what had to come next. He gave the wad of cloth a momentary queeze to distribute the 'moisture' evenly, paused half a moment, then draped the odorous rag over himself as if it were a table cloth, and he a table. The only thing he could see was red fabric, and the scent of "his own brand" dominated his offended nose. He growled, then turned toward the barred entrance door, and began to body slam it.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" Acid? Godspit. Yvonne had seen what a magically conjured glob of those could do to flesh, she wasn't about to linger around and find out how painful exactly it was to quite literally melt off your own bones. There were two exits. One's at the other side, beyond the damnable mage's barrier and out of reach. The other was the entrance that was locked earlier. Would it be easier to break the windows? No, those were all stone and way too narrow. The entrance, then. "Someone hold back Ragnar, go!" Disengaging, the mercenary's eyes locked on the heavy axe forgotten in the corner. To think that it's useful now, huh? She picked it up, grimacing at the sheer weight of the weapon and the insanity of someone who crafted the whole damned thing out of metal, but that's a boon now. The door was at least two inches thick, regular axe just wouldn't make it. With an angry yell, Yvonne tapped into her inner strength as she swung the axe with as much force as she could. Over and over. Then Cedar came barelling with his bulk, the two taking turn axing and slamming to the stupidly sturdy door. Will they make it? Yvonne didn't quite felt like turning back to look.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark The enemy's heavy frontliner was down. Good thing because Jazdia didn't have to involve herself in another fight. Not possible considering she hadn't been able to break her own stalemate. The violet hue on her eyes had been returned when the Druid's conjured vegetation covered the wizard's shield, and he saw him preparing another spell. And Veronica's shouting. "Acid fog incoming! We need to get out of here!" Even from this distance, the spreading vapor had started to contaminate the air with a sickly mustard-ish stench. Her eyes darted immediately toward the door. It was locked, but nothing explosive arrows couldn't handle. She hated the idea of terrorizing the hapless henchmen had to be stopped now, but her priority was always clear. The elf leaped for Matilda and dragged her toward the exit. "Come on! To the door! Double time!" In her restless surveillance on the encroaching mist, the not-so-transparent-anymore-barrier, and the door, she saw the druid running around frantically and searching the pile of thrashed tableware. What he did next was unobservable as Jazdia had better things to do, like pushing Matilda not so gently and prepared her arrow, that fortunately had been enchanted prior to this tactical retreat. Again, that made her grit her teeth. This would be the last time she looked back; The barrier was still up, the mist nearly reached her, and in that critical situation she saw the bear-- urinating? Jazdia was lost for words, simply because she had to hold her breath to prevent toxic fumes from entering her lungs, or perhaps to maintain her sanity remained intact. The next bizarre thing that happened was Jazdia watching the urine-soaked fabric disgustingly waving like a very filthy cape as the druid propelled himself against the door and body-slammed it repeatedly. Like... err animal? Sadly, communication, one of the most underrated aspects of society had been cut off from them. The notion that those guys could dispel their barrier any moment and shoot her when she was so occupied running from mist started to get on her nerve. In desperation, the elf drew her bow and aimed at the door, with a raging bear blocking it, hoping Cedar would take notice and move aside... Or somebody would be kind enough to nudge the stinky bear out of the way.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Annoying, the big guy managed to dodge his attack in the nick of time. O well, the others seem to have more success. As the battle raged on it became clear that the magic enhancements of Ragnar seemed to fade out. Kaito's involvement was no longer needed as Yvonne, Chounan and Veronica were perfectly capable of handling the big warrior on their own. For a moment the fox wondered what he should do. The big warrior was getting pummeled by his companions and the other enemies were hiding behind some sort of magic barrier while the big bad evil wizard was cooking up his next trick. And his next trick was certainly a fucking pain in the ass. "Acid fog? What a drag." sighed Kaito as he jumped over the table to help Jazdia drag the orc towards the door on their side. "We need to get out of here asap, but you already noticed that" The kitsune watched as Yvonne and Cedar frantically tried to brute force their way through the door. From his peripheral vision he noticed how the elf drew her bow only to have the bear stand in the path of her arrow. With the acid fog creeping closer. Shouting and breathing became hazerdours, even for a centuries old mythical creature. Quickly Kaito grabbed the nearest plate and threw it at the bear to get Cedar's attention, while waving to him to get out of the way. Looking behind the fox realized that they would be very vulnerable to the crossbowmen once their barrier would come down. If they weren't through the door by then. They would all be turned into pin cushions. Quickly he dropped the illusionary fake walls he had created and created a new illusionary wall right in the middle of the room. It would not block any arrows but at least it would block the vision of those damn crossbowmen. With a bit of luck, this would buy them enough time to get through the door.</s>

<|description|>Kaito Species: Kitsune Age: 256 years old Gender: Male Appearance: Kaito is of rather average adult height and build. Not particularly tall and has a rather slander build. He has messy brown orange hair and a rather boyish face with a disarming smile. Nothing that is particularly remarkable about him except well those fox ears on his head and that fluffy tail. He wears a dark red tunic, a gray pair of trousers, some sturdy boots and a black hooded cloak to finish things off. The quality of the fabric and dye of his clothing indicate that Kaito has significant financial standing. Bio: There are a lot of folklore tales about the origins of Kitsune. Some say they are foxes that have gained magical properties after turning hundred years old, others tell that they are native to a strange magical realm known as the fey wild and have used their magical abilities to travel to the current plane of existence. None of those stories are true and in good kitsune tradition Kaito tells them all. Kaito was born 256 years ago in the mystical forest of Kaojiro. A place far away from the three kingdoms. When he reached adulthood at the age of hundred and fifty, the young kitsune decided to travel the world. After visiting various places Kaito found himself in the kingdom of Escudo. Intrigued by its wealth, Kitsune decided that such a lavendish lifestyle would suit him well. However, Kaito is not the kind of man that would work fair and hard to gain a fortune. No, the kitsune decided that it would be much more efficient and fun to utilize his very particular skill set to extract as much wealth from all the merchants and nobles as he could in very underhand means. For many years he conned and cheated merchants and nobles alike out of their hard earned gold coins. This became such a problem that the government decided to intervene. When the king's men finally caught Kaito 5 years ago a spectacle of a process was orchestrated. Merchants screamed "off with his head", nobles demanded blood. However Kaito valued his head and thus executed a different plan. The night before his decapitation he used his illusion magic to impersonate a fellow prisoner who had served out his sentence and was promptly released by the clueless guards. For the next five years the kitsune managed to evade every bounty hunter, mercenary and soldier that tried to track him down. But that all changed when an elf working for the king started to ask questions in the more shadier parts of Rascade. Skills: Shapeshifting: Kaito can shapeshift between his fox and humanoid form. Sleight of hand: Kaito's hands are extremely fast, accurate and he's a master of deception. He's an expert pickpocket and trickster. Very sneaky: Kaito's ability to move around silently is unparalleled. He has a habit of suddenly appearing into people's personal space. Lockpicking Acting/deception Multi linguistic: Speaks and reads the various languages of the lands of Escudo, Anggolinsto and Meche. Spells: Impersonation: Kaito can use his illusion magic to take on the physical appearance of people he has seen. His magic also changes the sound of his voice to match that of the person he's impersonating. However he still needs to act out the way they move and behave. Illusion magic: Kaito can create Illusionary objects, creatures and terrain. These illusions include visuals, sound, sense of touch, smell and sense of temperature but cannot cause any harm. Charm: Kaito can use his magic to charm people. Any person that gets charmed by him regards Kaito as a friend and is very likely to help the kitsune in any way that is reasonable. Equipment: Wakizashi short sword Tanto dagger Set of lockpicks Shell game set Set of Dice Set of playing cards Spare clothes Camping equipment</s> <|message|>"Cedar" Cedar's eyes went wide for a second, as he took in the 'view'. The sounds of screaming villagers hit his ears, as the scent of burning wood and vegetation caught his abused nostrils. Visions of this kind of thing had filled his head when he had innocently asked about 'war' over a month ago. It was horrifying and sobering at the same time to witness the spectacle here, and a moment of panic gripped him, with the instinctual fear of uncontrolled fire urging him to run, but he stayed his ground. His eyes darkened and his fur ruffled frighteningly as he barred his fangs instead. More towns like this-- Towns all over Kinderance, all over Meche, maybe further beyond-- they would ALL burn-- Maybe even the tiny frontier wood cutting town of Mystville... they would ALL burn, if the prince was not collected today. The revelation and cruel finality of that thought ran through him as hot as the flames lapping up over the walls. The Wizard HAD TO BE STOPPED HERE. TODAY. Filled with singular dark purpose, he stormed away from the group and around the corner of the building to where he could see all that remained alive of the makeshift planting he had sprouted outside the window. Blackened husks of dead rose bushes. Cucumber and passion vines clung like zombies to the wall with their roots burned off. And there in the grass, a tiny flag of greenery hiding in the grass, the sole survivor of the green toxic filth roiling over the windowsill-- the long-grown roots stretching out under the wall to the east, with little bits of top sticking out here and there to catch the sun. He carefully pulled one of the charred rose bushes up by the roots, careful not to get into that disgusting shit, then snapped off a bit, and started scratching the dirt up with it, drawing a large 'circle' around the entire keep. That old fucker may have roasted his plants inside that room, be he had not come out with them. That meant he was still inside. Scratch. Scratch. Claw. dig. He carefully used the last few bits of his stock, arranging them to greatest possible effect, then tapped in the vine leading in from outside, and kicked off the latest in his series of botanical terror gardens. He was going to encase the entire keep, from the outside, and infiltrate the windows on all the remaining floors. That wizard was NOT getting away. Not today. Not ever.</s> <|message|>Jazdia Crystalspark When she reached outside, Jazdia immediately cast magic into her arrow, only spared a flash acknowledgment toward the surrounding fire and screaming civilian before activated her eyes and aimed again. She saw a pulse emenated from the wizard. Another beacon wanes and disappear. If that corroding fumes were magical, it too suddenly neautralized, leaving only ashes and putrid stench that Jazdia imagine would render the entire floor inhabitable for years to come. If that baron was still alive that should be the least of his concern. She observed the wizard dispelling the barrier, and several reanimated dead already lunged at his men like rabid beast. But instead of staying, he walked toward the stairs. Her eyes were still incapable of seeing through the wall, but her hunch told her that the ghostly doctor was upstairs, and the Wizard was on his way to deal with him. Sighed, Jazdia motioned her left pinkie to detonate one of her planted arrows, but apparently the link was disconnected. With visible displeasure on her face, she announced. "Follow that wizard. The price is several floors upstairs!" There was only one problem, the nortlander and Baron's henchmen was still blocking their way. And she wasn't really sure the room is still safe to tread into. She could see anything that was remotely magical, but the hazard often came from the physical realm as well. Drawing Lurea on its fullest draw, Jazdia released her crystal arrow toward the line of enchanted arrows she had previously planted. Employing the of the old adage When in doubt, blast it! to its full effects.</s> <|message|>Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade" [GM Post] Another series of explosions, incomparable to the previous ones, rocked the fort yet again. The mercenaries, the zombies, and Ragnar himself was caught dead center amidst the blast, not even the slightest errant scream could be heard from them. Then, as the remaining acidic fog dissipated, the still combat-capable members of the party charged back in. Jazdia at the helm, closely followed by Veronica and Chounan, back to the room desolated by repeated indiscriminate magic. "Rangvald? Jotnar? Off to meet the Ironhand, I see." As the dust settled Ragnar's figure emerged, clad in baleful crimson aura from head to toe. The explosion seemed to barely rattled him as he got up to his feet, sparing only one glance at the fellow northlanders torn to shreds nearby. "Felt that one! You're all that's left, hm. Bring it on!" Axe raised, Ragnar the Red charged forth like a rabid beast, lopsided gait barely seemed to inconvenience the brute. ***** Above, Asevor went unhindered toward his room... at least, until he got close enough that his necklace reacted to the presence. Taking a glance at the trinket, he frowned at the undeath influence nearby as he slowed and paused on the corridor. A druid and a necromancer, among other things. The most annoying of spellcasters if they're spared just the slightest room. Seems that another purge was in order. Crooked fingers began tracing the construct, Koriloth's working seeing yet another use. Perhaps he should pay the eccentric a visit after this business was done - maybe there's a new variation of the construct that Asevor could trade for.</s>

<|message|>Kaito Kaito sighed at the sight of the charging brutish Northlander. That guy seemed to survive pretty much everything. It was getting pretty annoying. However, the fox was a long way from running out of tricks. Once more he tapped into his magic and conjured an illusionary large metal bucket around Ragnar's head, blocking all the vision the man had. To top it all off, an equally illusionary hammer started to bang against the bucket like there is no tomorrow. Creating a cacophony of sound. It sure would not kill the brute but it might distract him long enough for Chonan and Veronica to get some strikes in. "He's all yours" shouted Kaito as he dashed around the Northlander in pursuit of the wizard.</s>

<|description|>Quote Credit to @Gcold for the design 💯 | --- | | | Image 800 x 800 ___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age ... Race ... Sex ... Height ... Weight ... Level (All players start at level 1.) Health Points Constitution x2 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y … ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Primary Weapon - Secondary Weapon/Shield - Armor Details (If inapplicable leave blank or mark as NA.) ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Points: 12 (These points are meant to be distributed among the six attributes below. This is to be removed from the CS after points have been distributed. Remember to account for racial bonuses. Do not forget to show your work next to each ability regarding points added and subtracted!) Might: 10 Dexterity: 10 Perception: 10 Wisdom: 10 Charisma: 10 Constitution: 10 | ____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE ... ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY ... ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY ... ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Optional ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC ... |</s> <|message|>Quote Ubagai Wakuno kicked aside the guard crumpled down before him, blood trailing from the man's mouth as he fell back hard onto the floor. Wakuno slightly adjusted his mask as he turned to quickly look over the spectacle in the throne room. His brothers were fiercely rattling blade and shield with the zealous guards who fought like madmen to defend their emperor. Wakuno might have found it honorable and heroic were it not a grand act of blasphemy. Bodies were strewn across the decadent chamber and blood ran in trails and formed puddles as it did out in the streets of the burning city. The numbers were even but Wakuno knew that more guards were on their way into the throne room. This was his only chance. The Emperor sat on his throat still as a statue as he watched his devout protectors shed sweat and blood for him. It momentarily reminded Wakuno of the death battles that the kings of the Mokeu would host in their strongholds for their amusement - but only in slight. The Emperor looked none to bemused but rather was as white as the moon and his face locked in a look of fear and despair as the bodies fell before him. Even from where he stood Wakuno could see a sheen of sweat across the man's face, running like morning dew down limestone. Truly a successor of Xiao Hui, vanquisher of yaoguai. Wakuno took a step towards the direction of the throne when a sudden motion in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned his head to see two figures standing in the breached doorway of the throne room. A towering Zauri and a female Honfokun at his side, heavily armored, and both were spattered in the blood of those they had killed. Wakuno did not recognize them as his own meaning they were interloping do-gooders or maybe Free Wardens. If the latter was it then he needed to move now. Wakuno turned back to face the throne where the Emperor sat still, Wakuno shoving past a pair of guardsmen as he broke into a fast trot towards the throne. As he passed one of his brothers dueling with another guardsman someone shouted, "He is going for the throne, he tried to kill our emperor!" "Someone stop him!" Wakuno barreled over a wounded guardsman who tried to block him, the Emperor sat frozen as he caught site of the masked man coming right for him. His knees were weak, his legs quivering, and his heart pounding. Several guards tried to make to stop Wakuno but were blocked or tackled to the ground by Wakuno's fellows. Wakuno was closer now to the Emperor but still had to shove by a few guardsmen lingering about, mostly wounded or disarmed, slowing him down. --- Fujiko and Yazju… A. break into sprints and try to shove through the crowd and tackle Wakuno. B. throw their weapons wildly at Wakuno's back. C. grab a single nearby bow and arrow so that one of them can shoot Wakuno in the back. D. do nothing. (GM granted two choices.) --- and @SouffleGirl123 choose C. Failed! and @SouffleGirl123 choose A. Failed! For a split second moment Fujiko was almost taken aback by the scene of the palace. She was unsure if it was those towering walls splattered with scarlet blood or the sight of the brutal battle before her. She was very quickly snapped back to reality with the screams of guards claiming an attack on the emperor. Fujiko looked up and truly the man had an aggressor, a lean man who had a mask on his face that almost seemed to resemble a twisted version of her kind. He was skillfully plowing through the guards with only one goal in sight; the Emperor. The honfo scanned the room for some way to intervene and noted the corpse of an archer close by, an oak bow in his hand. She made her way to him and wrung it out of his cold, lifeless hand and pulled an arrow from his quiver. She swiftly aims it at the back of the attacker's chest and lets it fly. As swift as she was to attack, Wakuno was faster. Her arrow whizzed past him, not even a scratch left. In the meantime her opponent was taking even more precous steps toward the emperor. In moment of desperation she did the only thing she could think - running at the man full force. She was consumed by the crowd, tangles of arms and legs all in the way of her and her adversary. She looked over for her Zauri friend. He too was taken by the crowd. They had failed. - - Wakuno closed in on the throne, Emperor Xiao Shang staring at the black clad killer as he approached. He had nowhere to run, and even if so, Xiao Shang would not break for it and leave his throne - he was no coward, even as his heart pounded and sweat poured down his face and soaked the neck of his robes he would not run crying out like a frightened child. His vision was blurring and his throat was constricting. This was it, this was where Xiao Shang would meet his end. So young and he had done so little, he would not leave this world as one of the more renowned of his line - or renowned at all. Stabbed to death on the festival of Wan Yue as his city burned, hardly worthy of his proud lineage. But so it was, ready or not this was his end. His final thought as he was grabbed by the throat and the killer's blade glinted overhead was, May the gods save the Empire. Ubagai Wakuno brought his blade down into the chest of the Emperor, the sharp blade slicing through silk and flesh, cutting deep and causing blood to come pouring. Emperor Xiao Shang's eyes bulged, a strangled gasp escaped his throat. Another strike and more blood, yet another choked gasp, then a third strike - the blade finding the heart this time. Ubagai Wakuno's eyes glimmered behind his mask as Emperor Xiao Shang's eyes closed, his mouth dropping open and his entire face going lax. The killer twisted his blade around, the blade shredding open the Emperor's heart with the confines of his ribs. Cries of despair rang up across the throne room mixed with shouts of victory, the guards all exclaiming in rage and fear even as the attackers all shouted with glee. Emperor Xiao Shang weakly tried to raise one arm but the last wisp of life ebbed from him and it dropped heavily against his thigh. With a loud grunt Ubagai Wakuno pulled free his blade and using his free hand jerked the limp body of Xiao Shang from the throne sending it tumbling down onto the hard floor. The beads from the Emperor's hat broke free as it landed near and they skittered about, rolling and bouncing through puddled blood. Ubagai Wakuno stepped onto the seat of the throne and, holding his blood soaked weapon high, shouted coarsely, "Xiao Shang is dead!"</s> <|message|>Yazju Fleetscale Yazju Fleetscale --- Yazju knocked a man aside with a big arm, breaking the assailants nose and sending them to the ground. Yazju shoved and pushed, but he couldn't get through the mass of attackers, and the defenders harried him as well. They didn't know he was trying to help, and it would cost them the life of their charge! Yazju roared, but there was nothing he could do. All of his and Fujiko's efforts were for naught, and he watched helplessly as the blade plunged into the Emperor Xiao Shang. Yazju had always wanted to meet a folk leader, and now not only did he lose his chance, but the attackers had triumphed. He hissed at the proclamation of the man, looking very much like a huge crocodile about to slide into the water for a meal. He and his friend Fujiko could not save the Emperor, but they could avenge him. He attacked again with renewed fury, hacking and cutting into assassins like a butcher, shouldering his way through and doing his best to ignore what glancing wounds he received. His eyes focused on Ubagai Wakuno, mouth open wide with sharpened teeth extended. Yazju had a bad habit of being scatterbrained, but this was one goal he would see to the end! The death of the Emperor's murderer.</s>

<|message|>Quote Ubagai Wakuno leapt to the side of from the throne, bloody blade clenched victoriously in his hand. Several of the Imperial Guard shouted in rage, surging forth weapons raised in their own pursuit of the Emperors' killer. Wakuno was swift, too swift, and easily outmaneuvered his would-be pursuers. He dashed between his brothers who were all rushing for the destroyed doorway, parrying away the swords and spears of the guards. With the Emperor dead all that was left was for them to escape. Wakuno was among the first to reach the doors and scurried down the great stairs after passing by the splintered frame. The city of Bianwei was captured in an orange, ominous glow as the flames of battle consumed all, the stars above obscured by black clouds of smoke. Wakuno and his brethren vaulted over wreckage and danced around guards who would chase them all the way over the stone walls of the city, never stopping even as they burst through the forests and hurtled into the Emerald River. All that was left was to return to their betters and speak of their success to which Wakuno looked forward. --- --- And so it was Emperor Xiao Shang was dead, murdered sitting upon his throne as the capital burned - all at the hands of an army of zealots who set upon the city amid what was to be an eve of celebration and kinship. The fires lasted all through the night consuming entire districts amid the chaos. As smoke blotted the night sky blood painted the streets, the blood of the hundreds cruelly cut down in the attack, the attackers scattering from the city and vanishing into the darkness their foul deeds committed in full. Men and women spent the night desperately searching for friends and family members harrowing the smoke and fires while children screamed in the streets for their mothers and fathers. As the sun rose on the next morn the body of Emperor Xiao Shang lay cold and the terrible truth of the matter finally set in; the last emperor was dead and the throne for the first time in history was empty. As the people scraped through the charred wreckage of Bianwei they looked to the guard, they looked to the Imperial Council - neither had comfort or answers to be given. The Council hesitated to send word across the land of the emperors' death for fear of the panic it would cause as well as the possible sundering of Yongcun. With no known heir to the throne many feared what may come next. The Imperial Guard and Free Wardens rushed to keep order but found this easier said than done. Regent Jia Chong declared martial law later that day in Bianwei and ordered that no official word be sent to the surrounding cities confirming Xiao Shang's death, not yet. If the Empire was to survive this devastating tragedy there would need to be order and proper planning, though even Jia Chong found himself filled with doubt. Uncertainty wracked all those who had survived that perilous night before and a shroud of hopelessness seemed to be descending from above. A single phrase that filled the streets resonated with all those in Bianwei, "Dark days are upon us." It will be seen just who will survive the coming darkness.</s>

<|description|>Zolzaya Togtuun Time is like an arrow. Its better if you have more and it hurts like a bitch when it hits you. | --- | | | ___________________________________ P R O F I L E Age: 23 ... Race: Folk ... Sex: Female ... Height: 5'6 ... Weight: 130 lb ... Level: 1 (All players start at level 1.) Health Points Constitution 24 ___________________________________ I N V E N T O R Y .. ____________________________________ E Q U I P M E N T - Recurve bow - Cavalry Sabre and whicker shield. Cavalry Spear - Leathers (If inapplicable leave blank or mark as NA.) ____________________________________ A T T R I B U T E S Points: 12 (These points are meant to be distributed among the six attributes below. This is to be removed from the CS after points have been distributed. Remember to account for racial bonuses. Do not forget to show your work next to each ability regarding points added and subtracted!) Might: 10 +1 + 2 13 Dexterity: 10 +1 + 4 15 Perception: 10 +1 + 2 13 Wisdom: 10 +1 11 Charisma: 10 +2 12 Constitution: 10 + 2 12 | ____________________________________________________________________________ APPEARANCE A wirey muscular woman from the Huafen plain. Dark of hair and weathered from long seasons in the saddle on the unforgiving plains. She was considered a beauty once, but while young for a Folk, the hardship of tribal life has begun to steal the blush of youth from her cheeks. ____________________________________________________________________________ BACKSTORY Zolzaya was born into a generations long interncine struggle for control of her tribe. Her grandfather was a great chief who united most of the tribes by marriage and war. Unfortunately all those marriages left an awful lot of heirs when the old man finally died. His concern for keeping all of his various wives happy meant that no clear successor was evident when the Old Bandit finally rode off to the great wind in the sky. The tribal gathering to elect a new leader deadlocked endlessly and eventually broke down into a series of running battles which snowballed into nearly four years of tribal warfare. Zolzaya's tribe lost most of their male leaders in the blood bath of the collapsing tribal compact. Zolzaya's mother rallied the survivors and put her and her sisters in command of the tribes warriors. Over the next several seasons Zolzaya rose to promince as a commander, reknowned for leading lightning raids and audatious all or nothing gambits. Under her leadership her tribe has become the central power on the southern plains. With their heartland secure the time is right for a representitive of the tribe to come south and make formal alligence to the Emperor, a move which will vastly strengthen the tribe, both diplomatically and material in Imperial weapons and trade goods. ____________________________________________________________________________ PERSONALITY Zolzaya is firey and brash, almost reckless. She is overconfident, ambitious and ruthless. She has a concept of honor peculiar to horsethieves and steppe raiders. ____________________________________________________________________________ MOTIVATION AND OUTLOOK Zolzaya wants to make her submission to the Emperor and get back north as quickly as she can before the other tribes, or worse her sisters, get out of control. ____________________________________________________________________________ MISC ... |</s> <|message|>Quote SUMMARY * * * --- --- The Fifteenth Day of the Month of the Moth… AN EMPEROR KILLED… As the first moon of the harvest rose above Yongcun black smoke and cries of fear and agony rose over the city of Bianwei. In the midst of the festival of Wan Yue the city suddenly came under attack from within. Hundreds dressed as peasants and guards as well as others adorned in the wares of holy men suddenly sprang upon the people, blades drawn. Arrows came raining down from from all around alight with flaring orange flames. As blood poured and fires raced over the rooftops and across the streets the attackers made their way towards the Ruby Palace - home of Emperor Xiao Shang. The attackers were lead by two men, a swordsman named Tsio Bu and a masked killer named Ubagai Wakuno - Tsio Bu meeting his end in the heat of battle at the hands of a young duelist while Ubagai Wakuno and his kin narrowly made it inside of the Ruby Palace. As the bloodshed continued in the Imperial Square and throughout the rest of Bianwei the Emperor's guard fought relentlessly against the vicious attackers in the throne room. Among the battle for the throne room was Keola, Imperial general and Swordmaster, a Honfokun ransutor named Fujiko, and a Zauri named Yazju - all three fighting the mysterious attackers to defend their emperor. Amid the madness Ubagai Wakuno darted like a snake through wet grass towards the Emperor who sat cornered on his throne, Keola and all others unable to stop him. The entire throne room seemed to freeze in time as the slippery masked Wakuno seized hold of the Emperor like a frightened child and fiercely stabbed him to death. Ubagai Wakuno - his foul deed done - escaped into the night as did the rest of his ilk. The attackers leapt over the walls, dispersed into the panicking masses, and took to the river leaving Bianwei in chaos in their wake. The great orange blaze and carrying screams of the people like a beacon of struggles to come.</s> <|message|>Quote --- --- ACT ONE_____________________________________________________TO KILL AN EMPEROR The Fifteenth Day of the Month of the Moth, Wan Yue, 404 Imperial Era --- --- As the first of the fireworks erupted over Bianwei cheers rang out across the capital. Though the sun had set one bell ago this was just the beginning of Wan Yue, the celebration of the harvest season and the welcoming of the coming winter. The streets were filled with Folk, Honfokun, Zauri, and even the odd native Mokeu who looked to join in the nights' festivities; to dance, sing, eat, drink, and revel until the first light of the next day. Merchants and peddlers crowded the streets and alleyways hawking both local and exotic goods. Children ran about trailing pinwheels overhead and fawning over toys and trinkets on vendor tables. Performers of all vocations took to the squares and balconies to entertain the masses with music, mysticism, and acrobatics. The air was thick with many drifting aromas including the the feint scent of black powder from above. The wondrous cacophony of sounds filled the souls of all within the capital and seemed to uplift all of Bianwei noble and commoner alike who now joined hands in merriment. - - Imperial Regent Jia Chong stood at the foot of the Ruby Palace, the grand stairs behind him like the ascent of a mountain. At his sides stood a manservant and one his favorite courtesans and at his back four of the Imperial Guard. Even in times of such jubilance after all one could not be too caring, especially a man of the state such as he. Jia Chong casually glanced up as another cluster of explosions erupted and captivated the masses, twinkling sparkles raining down like falling stars. A short smile etched across Jia Chongs' face as he took in the scene before him, Wan Yue was among his favorite times of the year - perhaps even the favorite. He was looking forward to the night to be had, both in the city and in the splendor of the Ruby Palace. But first there was one last duty of the day he was to fulfill. The Regent felt a tug at his sleeve and looked to meet the large almond eyes of his courtesan, "When will His Majesty come?" Her melodious voice cut through the entropy of a thousand sounds and was like silk gently sliding around Jia Chongs' ears. "Soon," the Regent smiled, "Emperor Xiao Shang still readies himself. The successor to Xiao Hui will soon enough be present before us." "I have never seen him so close." "This night you will." Jia Chong's smile widened. At four bells after sunset every year the Emperor was to make an address at Wan Yue. He would stand atop a great platform, like the one now perched in the square before the Ruby Palace, and bless the gathered masses with his words of welcome and wisdom. Every street stone, window, and balcony would be crowded as the people gathered to behold their esteemed leader and hear him speak. With the end of the address the Emperor would then return to the palace and the rest of the night would be one of revelry and fun to be had. Of course it needed not be forgotten that there was more to Wan Yue than just the pomp and boisterousness of the yearly festival. It was a time of kinship and for the coming together of family and community. It symbolized the unity of the Eternal Empire and all of it's subjects as the final moons came to rise on the year. Jia Chong took the courtesan by the arm and motioned for his servant and steely eyed escorts to follow along. He half hoped for a taste of the festivity before making his final act of state for the evening but unfortunately there were no food or spirits vendors nearby - not even a table to grab a trinket for his companion. Fret not, he thought to himself soon enough. The seven approached the large platform which was painted red and built of sturdy cypress wood. They did not ascend the short stairs but merely stood nearby where they would await for the Emperor to arrive. First the great gong at the front of the palace would be rung and the word would spread that the Emperor was coming forth from the palace. The Regent was then to announce the Emperor upon his arrival and then His Majesty would speak forth. Jia Chong pulled his female companion closer as his mind whirled. So much preparation had he put into this years' festival and he was quite proud of what he beheld. He remembered how honored he had been when Emperor Xiao Shang appointed him as this years' Overseer of Ceremonies - a responsibility he had taken very seriously. Jia Chong had taken months to organize and spent a hefty sum of coin to ensure that this Wan Yue would be one to remember. His Majesty will be quite pleased. Jia Chong beamed to himself, nothing could go wrong. "Once this... address is done, the night is ours?" Jia Chong's consort asked. "Yes," the Regent said, his smile now reaching his narrow cheekbones, "though I cannot do without some rest tonight. I do have a number of affairs to oversee tomorrow, as Regent you see." "Other than the matter of uncluttering." Jia Chong looked sideways at the woman who now grinned mischievously. Despite her sour jest the Regent refused to let the unwelcome concept of spending tomorrow returning order and efficiency dampen this night. He had worked hard to make this a joyous occasion and that it would be. Jia Chong kept the woman close in his embrace though found himself looking to the palace doors above longingly. He imagined it to be just short of two bells past sunset now, which still meant some time until His Majesty would venture forth. It was not just his own amusement that the Regent was eager to take to, he had been anxious since the day before to stand before the Emperor and bear witness to his reception as His Majesty bore witness to the fruits of his efforts. Seeing the approving and jovial eyes of Emperor Xiao Shang would be in itself a reward. Patience is a virtue. he thought, and so the Regent and his retinue stood to wait.</s>

<|message|>Zolzaya Togtuun It was entirely possible that there were more people in the square than Zolzaya had seen in her entire life. Her mind rebelled against the notion that even this green soft land could possibly support so many. How could straw hatted peasants grubbing in muddy fields feed this multitude? Where were their herds? So many beasts would surely blacken the sun with the dust of their passage. She sniffed at the air, tasting the bite of blackpowder, the sweet smell of frying rice, and the overwhelming sour stink of unwashed bodies and sweat. Zaya hated it. She wanted to smell the clean crisp of the coming winter on the steppe, wanted to feel the bite of the winds and the pound of hooves on the tundra. A trio of soldiers shoved their way through the crowd, weapons sheathed and faces bright with drunken merriment. They looked soft. One day, when the tribes were united, they would sweep down from the north and crush these weaklings beneath their hooves. Then her people would get fat on rice and drunk on cheap wine, their children would live to grow into pump merchants and their noses grow sharp for want of the steppe wind. Zaya's hand snapped down and caught the wrist of a child of perhaps ten years old in a grip like a wire snare. He let out a gasp of pain, his fingers a few inches from the leather purse that held her few coins. She stared down at him for a moment and saw tears start in his eyes. She shoved him back into the crowd and continued on, gripping the bridle of her mare in her free hand. The warhorse snuffled at the unfamiliar scents, flaring its nostrils as its hooves clattered across the flagstone. This place was as alien to Khiimori as it was to her, though admittedly the horse seemed to be handling it somewhat better than she was. The bulk of the horse made passage for her through the crowd, the clatter of hooves effective where hard looks from a small tough looking woman was not. She pressed her hand against the breast of her leather armor, feeling the wax sealed parchment concealed beneath it. She had assumed that she would simply march in and hand the summons, addressed to the 'Chief of Chiefs' to someone and they would take her to their Emperor. 'Chief of Chiefs' wasn't the proper word, but these southerners did so love the formulas they dreamed up. Zaya supposed they were lucky that the wisewoman had the magic of reading. There was no way she was going to get near the palace tonight. More fire blossomed in the sky above her and Khiimori flicked her ears in irritation. They pushed through the crowd and onto a long street lined on both sides with stalls covered with awnings of colorfully painted canvas. Smoke and the smell of hot oil and frying noodles filled the air as the cooks cried their wares, handing out food in little bowls of woven green leaves that did something to arrest the dripping grease. Meat seemed scarce save for a few vendors who were grilling what might or might not have been beef on long skewers, pausing occasionally to baste it in a thick sauce that smelled like peanuts and burnt sugar. Her stomach rumbled and she paused to exchange a few coppers for a bowl of rice and fried vegetables. Zaya ate with her fingers, disdaining the bamboo sticks that the southerns seemed to favor as useless frippery. Maybe she should find a…. What was the word? An inn? And wait till morning. Perhaps that would be best.</s>

<|description|>Sophie Karasu Epithet: Steel-Bubble/ 000 Race: Human Gender: Female Blood Type: F Age: 16 Height: 5'0 Weight: 110Lbs Role In Crew: Doctor Arges: Swabbie Bounty: 80,000,000 Berri Dream: Get her revenge on the Navy, Acquire Saturnus, and rebuild the Kakusareta karasu no su society Personality: Generally Sophie is a bubbly young woman, who enjoys trying new things, and exploring. It's hard to get her down thanks to her natural optimism and natural ability to rationalize events so as not to take it personally, at least as well as any teenager can not take a problem personally. At heart Sophie's a scientist and engineer. She loves learning almost as much as she likes creating, improving and perfecting. She has one hundred percent faith in the human ability to understand the world, to a point where her outlook is one of determinism. Which also leaves her very forgiving of human folly in the vast majority of situations. That being said, the one group of people she will not forgive, and even seeks to destroy utterly is the world government with its navy. She understands they've done some good. She understands they're people working in a system and doing things with brains that have made decisions before the consciousness has even gotten the question. She doesn't care. She wants them turned to ash. Biography: Sophie wasn't born into Kakusareta karasu no su society, but made. Her birth was the result of years of genetic engineering. It was with her, the Karasu hoped to finally be able to not only locate the legendary weapon Saturnus, but bypass its guardian and turn it to the hidden village's will. As was the original plan Sophie spent her earliest years in the village, learning little bits of information among science minded residents. Unlike the original plan, the village's leader, a man known by the 001, decided it wouldn't do to have their village's greatest hope for Saturnus to remain there, stagnating within their walls. So it was decided Sophie, along with a group of highly capable individuals would venture out in order for her to study abroad. Sophie's learning in the outside world came to a stop on when several members of her party became nervous, citing they had lost communication with the home base. So they sail for home. The group had begun to lose home long before they reached their home, as even hundred of miles out, there was the undeniable towers of jet black smoke climbing from the island. Hope had been all but lost by the time they came on shore, and made their way towards the center of the island, where a false mountain stood, wheezing smoke like a dying giant, dying of lung cancer, but refusing to give up his cherished cigars. Despite Sophie's best judgement of abandoning her home, the other members of the group decided press on for information, a decision most would not live to regret. As it would turn out, the invaders were none other than the world government's navy. Which were on their way out as Sophie's group headed inwards to learn more. The scuffle was short, and only Sophie was fast enough to flee further into the recesses of the base. The marines shouted commands as they hurried after the young woman, a decision they would not live to regret. Despite the flames and smoke bellowing out of the building, the air inside wasn't toxic. The ventilation system was working well. The lights worked well too. Everything seemed to be working, so long as it wasn't on fire. Strange. Stranger still was the large, man-shaped golem with one eye that stood towards the end one of the rooms Sophie rushed through. Arges was getting on in years, but it was still the most advanced defense the island had, and yet, it stood perfectly still, without so much as a scratch on it. The thing hadn't been in combat. It hadn't put up any fight. There was even layers of dust on it! Sophie was a smart girl, it didn't take her long to work out that someone had removed the Driver Unit from Arges, and the whole island, her people, were killed because someone on the inside had set things up. Rage boiled inside her. She moved towards the giant, and with a few quick taps of her fingers, the machine opened up like a flower, and the young woman stepped inside. Breathing hard, she waited for the marines to rush inside after her. When they did she screamed in furry. They screamed their commands, and then fear. It didn't take Arges much to make short work of the soldiers. Even their leader didn't take much effort. After the battle, Sophie set to work, reinstalling creating a rudimentary driver unit for Arges, before making her way off the island, with her protector. Without a home, and fully aware of the hunt for her, Sophie set out to Hachinosu, the pirate paradise, where she was quick to join up with the sea Reaver Pirates, assuming with their large size, she'd be able to blend in and stay safe for awhile. Surviving the honorstar Garrison Raid Battle wasn't easy. It wasn't hard either. It came down to luck, really. Sophie, inside Arges, had found herself at the forefront of the surprise attack. The assault was so quick and brutal, she didn't have time to attack. One moment there was an explosion and the next thing she knew, she was falling into the sea, with the better part of the ship she was on close behind. By the time she hit the sea floor, there was no way to get around the massive remains that landed hard on top of her. By the time she was able to reach freedom from the debris, the battle was lost. There was nothing left to do to retreat, and regroup. Combat Information Combat Role: Corsair / Mecha pilot Haki Prowess: Observation Haki-S Armament Haki-D Conqueror's Haki-N/A Physical Capabilities: *Sophie's stronger than she looks, but not by much. She's strong enough to pick up pieces of equipment and tools withou "Much" help. Her biggest asset, outside of Arges, in combat is her speed, and dexterity. Though she's not much capable with doing fancy things like flips, or parkour. *Arges on the other hand, is something of a physical powerhouse. Its strong enough to easily crush Wootz steel with one hand. The Arges unit is exceptionally durable and can withstand high levels of heat, pressure and cutting/ blunt force trauma. That being said, the unit's movement speed is lacking. Basically, it can keep up with a normal human. Fighting Style: Sophie(Outside Arges): fights with her gun Pinaka, firing the special bullets to either assist Arges, or make way for her to get inside the golem. Arges(Without Sophie): While Sophie is not piloting Arges, the Driver unit is limited to purely strength based attacks, and is not able to use its onboard weapon. Also it's full strength is limited to 50% output. Though it is capable of implementing more complex maneuvers like brawling or leading an enemy's strikes towards a center point, these will only be attempted with direct commands from Sophie. Equipment: Pinaka *Achlys Shot-Bullets that upon impact, explode and release a thick black gas, that burns eyes, nostrils and throat. *Dionysus Shot-Black spheres which upon explosion release a slippery black fluid which is similar to oil. *trishula Shot-Bullets with drills at the front. After firing the three will start to spin, and upon impact will burrow through whatever surface they made contact with. *Vajra Shot-Bullets with dart ends that upon impact release pulse of electricity. Arges *Mercury Cannon-Arges' left palm has a hole which fires standard bullets at speeds similar to a Gatling gun. *Oceanus (Left) Cannon-A cannon located on Arges' "belt". Its capable of firing fluids, or fluid like substances, at high pressure. There's a tank that can contain a limited supply of liquid, and more fluid can be fed by suction devices located on the bottom, and sides of Arges Feet. *Theia-Arges right fist is plated with Sea Stones. This fist is also capable of being fired out, attached by a thick black cable, and rapidly reeled back. *Typhon (Right)Cannon-A cannon located on Arges "belt" which is capable of blasting superheated white plasma. Special Techniques: Apollyon Mode-Arges energy production is pushed to the max, increasing its strength output by 250%. This creates a lot of heat and light. Which in turn makes it hard to look at Arges while in this mode, and even harder to touch as it's scalding hot. Even inside, the temperatures are sweltering. Without the use of Armament haki for protection, Sophie would quickly find herself suffering 3rd degree burns. Even with haki, she still gets burned, but not blister. At the most, the unite can stay in Apollyon for one minute. After that, there's structural issues and Arges will deuterating from the strain. Miscellaneous Information The Arges drive intelligence is on level of a four year.</s> <|message|>Handel Haydn Hallelujah Handel Handel perked up at the news. She may not have seen their captain fighting in such a manner, but she had picked up on enough marine intelligence to know a fraction of what she was capable of. If this wasn't a sign to reconvene, then nothing was. Handel lightly kicked the large case that was leaning against the wall behind her seat, causing it to open up and reveal the large, weaponized double bass in side. She began shoving the den den mushi into various snail shaped slots in the foam of the case. "Let's go, we've been summoned," Handel said to the reavers, trying to remain somewhat cryptic, getting up swiftly from her seat as she wheeled the large case behind her. She didn't get very far before they were confronted by a meathead and a suspicious posse. She smiled and pulled out a marine's cap from within her jacket, placing it on her head slowly to seem more official. "Don't worry, they're with me. Special unit, not your typical marines. Anyways, we'll deal with this threat, whatever it is," Handel lied, an act that was second nature to her after years of Cipher Pol training. Though she did not doubt any among the remaining crew's ability to command, as someone who had specialized in subterfuge and intelligence, she felt it only made sense to lead the way temporarily until they met their captain and their ranks could be more officially assigned. For now, her former rank as a marine commander would be the authority she would be relying on.</s> <|message|>Zerry Bell After sitting down Zerry inspected the other Sea Reavers, finally spotting Poppy and a little surprised that the Tontattan recognized him. Before he could say anything though Poppy revealed a question of her own. "Any word from the Captain-resu?" Not a question Zerry had wanted to hear, in fact he had hoped they would know more about Magdalena. Luckily before he could dash their hopes by admitting he didn't know anything either more crewmembers showed up, someone wearing a marine jacket but not showing any hostility, another cloaked figure and the easily recognizable Louis tapping on the window. "Just got here myself." Not even a minute later news of a pirate attack reached the bar and while Zerry at first only listened to what the messenger had to say out of curiosity his description of the single troublemaker quickly caught not only his interest but, clearly, that of the rest of the group as well. "Should have known the captain would show up sooner or later." As everyone stood up one of the bar patrons proved to either be a bit smarter or better at guessing than everyone else as he seemed to have picked up on the fact that the group were pirates. Before the serving girl could show if she was lying about her skills with her shotgun though Handel came up with a quick lie about them all being marines. "If that pirate is who we all think it is we're gonna have a fight on our hands. You civilians better stay out of this." Zerry hoped they would listen to his advice, he had no desire to fight civilians but he wasn't gonna just let them hurt any of the remaining Sea Reaver Pirates.</s> <|message|>Prima D. Louis Prima D. Louis Heh. Of course they had just arrived. Fate had a funny way of working out like that, didn't it? And likewise the words, muffled as they were, of the panicked individual talking about invading pirates... no. A pirate, who moved and fought like a ghost. Another grin as he lowered his crude mask again. Speak of the Devil, right? He moved around to the front of the tavern, thankfully not having to deal with the meathead's insinuation of piracy by virtue of the fact he was outside already, and pulled out a banana he'd saved, peeling it and, with a slight chuckle, dropping the skin in front of the tavern door for whoever might stumble over it. Of course, if it turned into a fight inside... he was strong enough to lift the whole building out of its foundations if need be, given the proper grip. For now, he'd settle with an easy prank.</s>

<|message|>Sophie Karasu The cloaked figure, with the giant standing behind, tensed at the sight of the marines. Her left hand clenched, tight enough to force the veins to show like a declaration of war. Gritting her teeth was all she could do to keep from jumping into her buddy, and making a move towards the marine, yapping about everyone standing back during the fight. It was infuriating. Then, little by little, the man's words started to meet her. Gears began to turn. mathematical figures danced in her vision. The ghost thing, like a ghost. Could that be the captain? It had to be, right? The odds of everyone regrouping, after the butchery, the ghost stuff. Licking her lips, the figure nodded, and pushed herself off from the chair. "Oh Well" Sophie sighed. No time for a drink now. "So much for getting together in secret, and figuring out a plan of attack." She shrugged as she started forwards, motioning the large figure to follow. "Don't worry about us" the voice from the cloak was small, but tight like a bow's string. "My friend and I will make things easy, and just leave, while you big brave marines, hero and all, wait here cowering, and chugging down booze." She didn't wait for a reply. Nothing the marines said mattered. Not that she didn't hope they would try something. It would give her friend and her a chance to release some of the frustration that was building up inside her. Just one excuse.</s>

<|description|>Arrow Fur- white Eyes- blue Age- 3 Gender- male Personality- serious Powers- momentarily freezing prey Mate- probably dead Backstory- Venus is his aunt, and he has a brother named Hawthorne. Other physical characteristics- He is missing a toe. small and fast. Other-</s> <|message|>Clover We're starting in mid-February being chased by 2 hunters with guns. Myke and Pixels characters are in a camp nearby with Clover, completely unaware that the hunting trip went awry. We recently met with a different clan, that has most of our mates and discussed the situation. Both clans agree that many of the couples will never meet again on the land. The only hope is that the Star-Land has no hunters.</s> <|message|>Winter North ran through the forest, dodging trees. She heard the hunters make their sticks explode. She saw one of the rocks their exploding-sticks threw hit the ground beside her paw. She glanced at the sky, then down. Ancestors, please keep me safe. She knew the rest would be praying to their unrelated ancestors. She hoped they listened. She wished she could reason with the hunters, but that was impossible. She shook her head. what powers could help here? "WINTER! CAN YOU SCARE THEM OFF?" she shouted. Winter glanced over. "GOOD IDEA! I CAN TRY!" Winter shouted back. She stopped and turned, glaring up at the hunters. Nothing changed. She kept running. North glared at the ground. What to do, what to do? Ah-ha! "ARROW! CAN YOU MAKE THE SNOW SLIPPERY?"</s> <|message|>Arrow Arrow hears Norths shout and decides it's worth a try. He turns around and tries to compact the snow with his frost power. (Rolling a D20- got a 10- THIS IS OPTIONAL IN POWER USAGE) He sees a shine on the snow, but the strange branches tied to their feet prevent any damage.</s> <|message|>Aries North watched the second failed power use, frustrated. What else, what else? She heard Venus shout to Aries, just as the first hunter tripped on his foot-sticks and fell, sinking into the snow. North heard Winter and Hawthorne laugh. Comet shot fire at a tree and a branch fell in the path of the remaining hunter, as Aries used her darkness to surround him so he couldn't see it. He tripped on it but kept moving. Apparently, his shiny blue fur was fireproof. (foot-sticks = snow shoes, shiny blue fur= snow pants and coat)</s> <|message|>Arrow Arrow looked back at the man still running and decided to try again. (Rolled the optional D20 and got a nat twenty) the hunter slips and slides down the hill and vanished under the snow.</s> <|message|>Winter North laughs as the man disappeared. Nicely done Arrow! But she says nothing since he doesn't seem to trust her. Winter looks at the spot in the snow where he disappeared. "I wonder if he's ok! I'm going to go check on him." "No!" North says at the same time as Venus says, "Are you stupid?" Winter sighs and tries again. "Maybe there are some voles near where he fell." North chuckles. "Fat chance. That crash would have sent them running." Scarlet, Winter's mother, looks back. "Someone needs to grab the prey we dropped when they showed up." All eyes, except Winter and Comets, turn to North. It will be a risky run, alone. Naturally then, she will be sent. If she returns, they had the food. If not, oh well. She starts walking.</s> <|message|>Arrow Arrow follows the group back, ignoring Winters hesitant glance.</s> <|message|>Winter North jogs back, aware of the danger posed by wolves, hunters, badgers, moose, and just about any other animal. She collects the prey. The hole in the snow where the hunter had fallen is empty, fortunately. On the way back, she hears scuttling under the snow and catches 2 fat voles. She returns to the camp and tosses the prey she was sent to collect into the center of the camp, where everyone jumps to grab some, but takes the voles she caught to the side. "Winter! Want a vole?" Winter bounds over and eyes it. "That looks good, but I was going to eat with Comet, and then we were going to go scout ahead. Venus wouldn't let you come, she doesn't want us to be friends." "Fine." She would like to eat both voles herself, but that would be irresponsible in the hunger of winter. Who else?</s>

<|message|>Arrow Arrow glances over at North with two fat, warm voles longingly. He distrusts her though, so he ignores it. He goes back to the lean, scrawny rabbit he's sharing with Hawthorne.</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca dumped her clipboard on the counter, tossed her RISC coat off, and punched out on the tablet. Done. Finished. An entire day in this building talking to every flavor of yokel aspirant and city-slumming, wannabe celebrities. She'd written down the five or six that seemed genuine, and was confident the suits above her would ignore them. Fine. Whatever. She'd be mad about it later; right now all she wanted to do was get her hands on some street food and relax, maybe catch the tail-end of Lucis's show, or swing by the marina and see if Colm had taken the girls out fishing yet. She could do with a beer and a quiet drift on the lake. "Doctor Darroh." One of the employees approached her holding an application. Volunteer tag, not RISC. "Uh—yep, yeah, no. Doctor Darroh just left, actually. Yeah. Damn, just missed her. If you scan in whatever you got there, though, I'm sure she'll check it out first thing tomorrow." He gave her an odd look, but when she started walking away, he followed. Damn. "There's uh…we were told to come get you if there were any, uh, weird things." "Weird things." "Just…" he held the sheet out. "Just look at this." Besca shut her eyes, tried not to imagine the 'sold out' signs on all the food carts, and took the sheet. A quick scan didn't find any problems; no empty fields, decently-sized answers where there ought to be…and where there ought not to be. And, actually on second sight, there were empty fields, they just had answers in them anyway. Date of birth—summer, I think. Compatibility status—I don't know what that is. Yet she'd come to a pilot testing interview. Ah, there it was. She'd skimmed it the first time. Age—sixteen. "So, uh…what's the plan? Do I just kick her out?" "Yeah—no. No, uh…no, I'll take care of it. Thanks. Room four? Right, good." Besca left him there and made her way back down the hall. She knocked, waited, then went in. "Quinnlash Loughvein," she said, feigning like she was still reading the sheet. The girl sat at the desk inside wasn't much to look at; she was on the short side, and a tad scrawny. Her hair was long though, and her eyes were exceptionally yellow—oh, wait, no, not eyes. Besca tapped her own eyepatch. "Hah. Twinsies," she said, and took the seat opposite her. "You know, I gotta say, I've been reading a lot of these applications today, and this is definitely the most interesting one we've gotten. Really good stuff here, funny, seriously. So what brings you down?"</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein As she was led back into an interview room, Quinn was left on her lonesome, sitting down in the chair, bouncing a little in excitement. A few minutes later, a woman with an eyepatch—just like hers!—walked in, started talking, and sat down across from her. Her smile brightened. "You can just call me Quinn, if you want!" This woman intimidated her for some reason. The eyepatch—it was nice to see someone else with one, really. And the 'twinsies' did seem like she was trying to put her at ease. But something about her made Quinn feel like she was being judged. Well, of course she was being judged. It was an interview, after all. Being judged was the whole point. But...judged judged. So for the first time since she left her room, she let herself slow down a bit, and collect her thoughts a bit more. And she tilted her head a bit at "funny," let that bright smile dim slightly. Did she do something wrong? She didn't want to be yelled at. "Well, it's my first time outside, so I was wondering what was happening in town. I've never been, and it looked like a lot of fun. Then I saw a sign for pilot interviews! I don't know that much about pilots or Saviors or anything, but I..." She trailed off. She didn't really know what the question was, but that felt like the wrong answer. What should she say to this woman? Ah, that's what the judge—y was reminding her of. It was kind of like the way Mom looked at her, every once in a long while. She definitely reminded her of Mom, at least just a little. But she loved her Mom. She frowned. So why did that look make her feel so ill at ease? "...I—I don't—I'm not used to all these people, and the dock was really busy and loud and kind of overwhelming, so I thought this would a little quieter?" That wasn't the right answer either. She looked stupid. This woman was going to get mad at her, she knew it sure as she'd ever known anything. Her words started to stick in her throat. "And I—well, I still don't know much about pilots, but I guess I've—" No. No. That answer was bad too. She was starting to feel a little bit dizzy and lightheaded. Her stomach felt...strange. Off, somehow. Like it never had before. She couldn't explain it. It didn't hurt or anything. It just felt different, a twinging feeling from right down in the pit. A deep and elemental fear began to build in her. Maybe this woman was hurting her. She acted nice, but why else would she feel like this? Maybe Mom and Dad were right and the people outside were going to hurt her. Maybe they were right, and it was going outside at all that was hurting her. It was making her sick. She never should have disobeyed them. She could feel her breaths turning shallow in her chest, and her heart was pounding in her ears. Her hands clenched into tight white fists on the table in front of her, and she stared at them. She thought she was about to pass out. She thought maybe she was about to die. "Sorry," she muttered, voice shaking like a leaf. "I don't—feel quite right."</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca had expected…well, she didn't know what she'd expected, exactly. Some strange interview strategy, or a sort of protest like they got recruiting city-side now and then, or maybe just a prank. What she didn't expect was for the girl to start collapsing in on herself right away. She did her best in these things to come across easy, to make it feel like a coffee house meet rather than a proper interview, but now and then people cracked anyway. Normally it happened after the icebreaker. She was breathing funny, and her hands were wound up for a fight. Besca could almost see the gears in her head churning, choking her with smoke. The things she said were strange, almost nonsensical. One thing became perfectly clear to her—this girl had not left home today wanting to be a pilot. Which was good, because sixteen was too young. Not by management's standards, maybe, or by the standards of any other country, but Besca would burn this girl's application in a trash fire before she put it into the system. She'd done as much in the past, and even just today she'd managed to 'lose' a few sheets from interviewees who's ages began with "1." So then, if neither of them had any intention of seeing her pass this thing, what was the point of putting her through it? "I don't—feel quite right." "That's because you're having a panic attack, hun. Hey," she leaned over the table, smiled. The girl was almost as young as Dahlia had been when RISC picked her up—she'd had troubles like this, too. "Breath." Besca took a few deep breaths to demonstrate. "You didn't do anything wrong, alright? I didn't come in here to get mad at you, I just really liked your application. I wanted to say hi, that's all. Quinn. That's a pretty name. My parents called me Besca, sounds like a soda brand. Where're your folks?"</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Well, that raised more questions than it answered, but fine, answers were secondary. For the moment it looked like Quinn wasn't going to combust from panic, which was at least something. As for her parents' absence, and that odd bit about sneaking out—it was beginning to sound a bit like she was dodging a grounding. Fair enough, Besca thought. If she lived in a place like Hovvi, and got grounded from the biggest social gathering the town had ever seen, she'd probably have snuck out too. "Well," she said with a shrug. "You didn't put down any contact information, so, looks like even if I wanted to rat you out, I couldn't." She folded up the sheet and put it in her pocket, then got up from the desk and stretched. "God. You know, I've been stuck in these rooms all day—they're kinda stuffy, right? Been wanting to get out into town but, honestly? You're right. The dock's crowded, the streets are even more crowded. So I was thinking about heading down to the marina, actually. I've got some friends down there fixing to head out onto the lake, go fishing, relax on the water. I don't think anywhere within a hundred miles of here is necessarily 'quiet', but it's probably as peaceful as it gets." Making her way around, she opened the door up and nodded to her. "Not a big boat, if I recall, but plenty of room if you wanted to come along."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein All at once, Quinn's mind ground against itself, spat out a few sparks, and stuttered to a stop. She blinked once, twice. There was no way this was really happening. There was no way. It was impossible. Besca was—she was—it didn't make sense. Nothing about it was right. This couldn't—it wasn't—she blinked again. A fourth time, still sitting in the chair and staring like she'd seen a nightmare. Besca was—holding a door open. She was HOLDING A DOOR OPEN. FOR HER. "I..don't understand." She shook her head, like she was trying to clear fog out of it. Doors weren't supposed to be held open like that. They were supposed to be shut all the time unless Mom and Dad wanted to give her food or talk to her. She was using the door wrong. But before she could open her mouth, the vivid image of the door to her room standing open flashed behind her eye. "I..." Was...was this what it was like to be...invited somewhere? She reached up a hand to ball her eye, not really believing what was happening. But when her hand fell again, Besca was still there. She blinked one more time before her lips turned up in an unsteady smile. "I think I'd like to go. If your friends are all as nice as you, I think I'll like them a lot." Then, from a part of her deep down that she didn't recognize, she added, with just a pinch of vehement energy: "I don't think I like being stuck in one room very much either." Her stomach felt odd again. It felt like something inside her was...coming unknotted, maybe?. She huffed in a tense breath through her nose, then blew it slowly out. In, out, just like Besca said. It'd pass soon enough, right? She hoped it would pass. The panic still nibbled at her feet, but the breathing was helping. It was helping a lot. She loosened the muscles in her legs that she hadn't known had been straining, and with a bit less energy than before, she hopped to her feet. She hoped Besca's friends were nice. Then she smiled again, and walked out through the door.</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca led them out the back, and onto the crowded streets. She hadn't been to Hovvi since the year after Dahlia got picked up, and then it was only a brief, subtle affair for the girl to see her father. She'd been born in a place like this; her home had been on the Gideon Sea, though she only spent a few years there before moving in with her father. From then on, it'd been Westwel military bases, and eventually the Aerie. When she let herself be optimistic, she liked to imagine retiring somewhere like this, spending her days fishing and drinking that hoity-toity sparkling water 'cause by then she'd have given up booze, again, and for real. When she took her head out of the clouds though, she knew hardly anyone that got involved with Saviors retired. The day was turning to evening. Besca felt a rumble that she couldn't hear over the crowd. She took a detour, ushering Quinn along with her, and came up to a food cart selling something that smelled as good as it looked unhealthy. Fried sweets of just about every kind. She ordered the cook's choice and charged it on the company card, which she would continue to do until they extended lunch breaks. She handed a paper basket with fried cookies dusted in sugar to Quinn, along with a cup of water. Licking her lips, she plucked one up and popped it into her mouth. "God, they don't serve stuff like this up there. I mean, they shouldn't, we'd all keel over from heart disease, but damned if they couldn't splurge on some decent desserts now and then. Go on give'em a shot." Stepping onto the boardwalk, Besca led them behind the rows of people standing before the screens. Lucis's show was over, or on intermission, or something. They were showing battles now, ones that mainly showed off the prowess of Grauritter, Jubilee, and Magnifique, like she'd suggested. Some intern had tried to slip in footage from the Dotsockett singularity, where they'd lost Safie's predecessor, because it was the first time he'd seen Dragon in action and it was special to him. She'd nearly thrown him in the airlock. The further they went, the thinner the crowd got. The marina wasn't far, but she couldn't spot anyone yet. "You like the water? To be honest, I'm total crap at fishing—too antsy. But I like being out there, just sitting. The rocking, the little waves hitting the side of the boat, the open air. It's nice."</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca's smile shriveled instantly, along with her budding relief. Quinn's screams filled the room like a keg poured into a shot glass, spilling out and flooding the halls. She dashed over to the bed, afraid for a moment that the girl was ripping out her hair or beating at her skull. Instead she clutched her head like she was trying to hide, like she was in pain. A nurse came running in, frantically checked the monitors and machines with a bewildered look. "What's happening?" "I—I don't know! Heartrate's elevated but everything else is fine! She's fine!" "She's not fine she's screaming, she's—" And as Quinn's screams withered into choking sobs and mewling apologies, Besca felt a pit in her gut. "Give us the room, please." "…I'll tell Doctor Follen she's awake," the nurse said, and shut the door on her way out. Besca stood there for a while, letting Quinn shake and mumble. She felt it again, that same inadequacy that had kept her from comforting Dahlia. She had no idea what Quinn had seen, what she'd been through in the attack. They'd found her out in the fields, with Daz, bloody but mostly unharmed save for some cuts on her feet. Judging from the wounds on Daz's body, they must have met the beasts on their way out. This girl had waded through monsters, and the dead, and was by all accounts the only person from Hovvi still breathing. And she couldn't offer her anything? Not a single, conciliatory word? Get it the fuck together, Besca. "Quinn…" she whispered. She put a hand on the girl's shoulder, if for nothing else than to try and calm the shaking. "Quinn, hey. Hey, you're safe. You're safe you're on, uh, you're on the Aerie. You made it. You're okay. Nothing's here, it's just me. You're not hurt, it's just soreness, you've been lying down for a few days. Just….just try and relax. Try to breathe."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn felt a hand on her shoulder. A comforting hand. A warm hand. Through her tear-clogged, blurry vision, she saw Besca. Just like during the interview, talking to her gently, so gently. She barely heard the words, but she didn't need to. Just the voice was enough. And then just like that, she was up again, hurting so much, but wrapping her arms around Besca like the last refuge in a tornado while she cried. She tried to breathe deep. She couldn't. All she could do was grab her. And all at once—at last—she finally found her voice. "Oh god oh god it was horrible all the blood and the bodies and the black lake and the water and everything was BURNING Besca it was all burning," she rambled, a tidal wave of words rolling over her. "And the things chasing and the eyes it was HUNTING me, and then all the noise, the noise and the voices and I needed to RUN, I needed to RUN and RUN and RUN and even though I ran I couldn't get away, and Safie oh god oh god oh god Safie OH GOD—" She let out a hacking cough as tears drowned her out again. She felt like someone had taken a knife to her feet. Her throat felt like it had boiled, what had happened to it? Why did it hurt so much? But she just kept going, she couldn't stop, it got worse and worse and her panic grew and grew as memories started to smear together in her mind like mixing paints. "Don't send me back!" She was screaming again, hysterical, the panic gripping her legs again and this time she didn't have the strength to fight it off. "I don't want to go back I don't want to go back don't put me back!" She felt her whole body shaking and shivering, she could barely hold on to Besca so she just gripped her tighter around the waist and squeezed like her world was falling apart. She was breathing so hard and fast she was dizzy, and her stomach was tied up in knots but different knots than before. For a moment she only breathed. Then she wrenched in one last desperate breath and shrieked, louder than any noise that had ever come out of her mouth, and tears were freely rolling down her face now and dribbling to the floor: "DON'T LEAVE ME!"</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca was stunned. She stood there frozen stiff while Quinn held onto her like a life raft in a hurricane. The girl spoke a hundred words at once, so fast and so garbled that she only really heard them in retrospect, and even then, the raw panic made it impossible to focus on them. She'd counseled pilots whose Saviors had left them shriveled, calcified wrecks who had more composure than Quinn did. Who were less afraid to die. God, it was like she was being stabbed, or dragged underwater. The last, violent shriek snapped her out of it, and Besca finally put arms around her. She held Quinn close, tight, like she meant to force her steady. She breathed quietly onto the top of her head, "Shhh….shh shh shh…" and stroked fingers through her hair. Her own hands shook, but she realized it was Quinn's hypothermic shivering resonating through her. "I…I'm not. I won't. Quinn, listen to me, I'm not leaving you. I'm not…taking you anywhere." Where could she even take her? Put her back? Even if she wanted to, she couldn't. Hovvi was gone. But the way she said it made it sound like going home would have been a threat. Then again, there were reasons now to think it might have been. "Quinn, it's over. It's over. Look at me," She pulled back, angled herself to look down at her. Quinn's face was a teary ruin, Besca gently wiped it with her sleeve. "All of that…stuff, that happened. It's done. I'm here, it's just me. You made it. Breathe for me, okay? Just like before—do you remember? Breathe." Besca demonstrated again. One, two, and three long, deep breaths. "Don't think about anything else right now. Just think about you. How do you feel? I know you're scared, I'm not gonna go anywhere, alright? But how do you feel? Do you feel sick? Not tired, I mean sick. Your feet got a little cut up, but they're healing just fine. Do you hurt anywhere else? Anywhere inside?" Besca moved, trying to get her propped up right in the bed without yanking any of the IV lines. "There's no wrong answer, alright? I'm not mad, no matter what, I just want to make sure you're okay."</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca was stunned. She stood there frozen stiff while Quinn held onto her like a life raft in a hurricane. The girl spoke a hundred words at once, so fast and so garbled that she only really heard them in retrospect, and even then, the raw panic made it impossible to focus on them. She'd counseled pilots whose Saviors had left them shriveled, calcified wrecks who had more composure than Quinn did. Who were less afraid to die. God, it was like she was being stabbed, or dragged underwater. The last, violent shriek snapped her out of it, and Besca finally put arms around her. She held Quinn close, tight, like she meant to force her steady. She breathed quietly onto the top of her head, "Shhh….shh shh shh…" and stroked fingers through her hair. Her own hands shook, but she realized it was Quinn's hypothermic shivering resonating through her. "I…I'm not. I won't. Quinn, listen to me, I'm not leaving you. I'm not…taking you anywhere." Where could she even take her? Put her back? Even if she wanted to, she couldn't. Hovvi was gone. But the way she said it made it sound like going home would have been a threat. Then again, there were reasons now to think it might have been. "Quinn, it's over. It's over. Look at me," She pulled back, angled herself to look down at her. Quinn's face was a teary ruin, Besca gently wiped it with her sleeve. "All of that…stuff, that happened. It's done. I'm here, it's just me. You made it. Breathe for me, okay? Just like before—do you remember? Breathe." Besca demonstrated again. One, two, and three long, deep breaths. "Don't think about anything else right now. Just think about you. How do you feel? I know you're scared, I'm not gonna go anywhere, alright? But how do you feel? Do you feel sick? Not tired, I mean sick. Your feet got a little cut up, but they're healing just fine. Do you hurt anywhere else? Anywhere inside?" Besca moved, trying to get her propped up right in the bed without yanking any of the IV lines. "There's no wrong answer, alright? I'm not mad, no matter what, I just want to make sure you're okay."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn had been hugged before. Mom and Dad had hugged her. When she'd felt sick, or where her eye had been had hurt, they would come into her room and hug her. And they loved her, right? So why didn't those hugs feel like this? So finally, finally, she released her death grip, and let herself go. Her fevered wailing trickled down to slow, hiccupping sobs as she let herself fall limp into Besca's arms. Deep breaths. She tried. In, out. In, out, three shuddering gasps. "N—no. No. No. I—" She put her head in her hands as she started to spiral out of control again. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "I felt so sick down there, so sick, I couldn't—I—" She swallowed. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. "I don't feel sick anymore. I only hurt—" She lethargically reached her hand up to move up to her heart. It hurt. It hurt more than anything. But she paused. On the back of her hand, there. There was something that should have been there, something that wasn't there anymore, something that she thought was important. She closed her eye, trying to remember. She couldn't. So she finished the motion, opening her eye and clutching her hand tight over her chest. "—here. My heart hurts. I don't—I don't—" The tide of her tears, so recently stemmed, began to flow again. The hand tightened more, fingernails digging into the hospital gown. Besca's hand stroked her hair, and her voice grew thick. She could hardly speak over the lump in her throat, but she took a deep breath in, then a deep breath out, and tried again. "I...I just...I just..." She hiccupped again, fighting to get the words out until finally they rushed out with a renewed flow of tears and let her head fall back on her pillow. "I just wanted to see the fireworks with Safie. She was going to—" And then she couldn't talk anymore.</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. And just like that the word-well ran dry. That was okay, Quinn's had, too. Besca held on silently, raking sharp nails through her brain to think of something, anything to say that might make this better, or at least just a little more manageable for the girl. Perhaps she'd never lost anyone before. That was fairly uncommon these days, but for a place like Hovvi—a small town that was the same each morning as it was each night—maybe it wasn't so strange. In a way she wished she could as open as this. Losing pilots hurt every time, and she'd let herself fall into a comfortable lull with Dahlia and the others. Losing Ghaust was like losing someone you respected, someone who valued the way they lived their life, and what they lived it by, rather than how long they lived it. Losing Safie had been like losing a little sister; unprecedented, unshakable optimism, gone in the flick of a candle. It hurt, it hurt a lot, but Besca hadn't cried since Westwel. It was a guilty feeling. They deserved more than she could feel anymore. For only having known Safie a short time, it seemed to her that Quinn hurt enough for both of them. Strange, but not— She paused as her fingers brushed something on the back of Quinn's neck. Hard. Cold. Her brow furrowed, she traced it with her fingers. A circle, small, metallic—not one, but a series. They ran down her back, on her spine. Her eyes widened. Besca let go for a moment, pulled Quinn's chart from the end of the bed and scanned it. Pain killers. Supplements. Antihistamines. Neuromarkers. Page, flip. Immunosuppressants? Tech salves? Modioscory. Oh god, an entire post-op's worth of Modioscory. Follen. "Quinn, hun," she said. It took effort to keep her voice steady, but she managed. "Listen, you're gonna…you might feel something on your back. Some little dots, little plugs? Those aren't—they're not bad, they're not gonna hurt you. Someone made a mistake, put'em on you by accident. Easy fix, don't even worry about. I'm gonna set it right myself, okay?" She hadn't noticed—how hadn't she noticed? Follen had been assigned to her, that rat fuck, and she hadn't noticed. Besca's signature had been waived, he'd moved before she'd even been approved for interim-commander. He wanted to make her a fucking pilot. Besca might have stormed out right then to drag that fucker out of his office and throw him into the airlock. But, looking back to Quinn, she remembered she'd just made a promise. An impasse, then. This couldn't wait, every second that passed would make it harder to undo. And she had to undo this. Now. "Hey, actually, do you want to take a walk with me? You've been laying down for days now, it's…probably for the best if we get you moving. Just a bit, just down the hall and back, real quick while I take care of something. You'll be with me the whole time. Sound good?"</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca had to temper herself. She knew what she wanted to do, but if she walked into Follen's office with Quinn in tow and just laid into him…no, that wouldn't be any good for her. The last thing the girl needed right now was more violence, more yelling, or any more reasons to be afraid. Which meant she'd have to do something she absolutely hated. She'd have to be cordial. Follen headed medical's pilot department, oversaw all of their maintenance, their evaluations. Theoretically there wasn't a single person on the Aerie she should have been working more closely with than him; they were both crucial to the program, and both deeply vested in the wellbeing of their pilots. But it wasn't Follen's investment that burned her, it was his maddeningly nebulous motivation. And, of course, when he pulled shit like this. They came to his office door, but before Besca could even finish her first knock it swung open. Aldous Follen was a year older than Besca, and while the years had been kind to him, a few graying strands had begun sprouting up by his temples, and in his short beard. He wore glasses, and a tie, but his coat had been shucked and his sleeves were rolled up casually. His eyes lit up when he saw them, and he smiled in a warm and welcoming way. Everyone bought that smile, they bought pretty much everything he sold, and with enthusiasm. Besca had long given up trying to convince people of what he was—what he'd been for years, now. He was too good, it was a waste of time, so she'd settled for just avoiding him. She wished she could now. "Doctor Follen," she said, as politely as she could. His brows shot up. "Commander Darroh! Wow, yes, how pleasant—I was expecting you!" His warm, green eyes turned down to Quinn, and his smile broadened. "And miss Loughvein! I thought I heard you wake up. Look at you, on your feet already! You're a fair bit stronger than I gave you credit for—and I wasn't stingy with it! Please, come in, come in, both of you." Besca took a deep breath. She wasn't used to putting on acts, and in a contest of hiding one's thoughts, she was hopeless against him. But it was necessary nonetheless. Smiling to Quinn, she nodded and led them inside. Follen's office was entirely as expected, as if ripped from the pages of a hospital pamphlet. Desk, computer, two comfortable chairs across, with bookshelves to either side and a display against the far wall with framed pictures. Follen didn't have any family—none living, anyway—so he filled them with photos of past pilots, and the staff. He was in some, smiling, arms around his coworkers, blending in. That's all this was, really. A room of camouflage with a chameleon at its center. He walked to the far side of his desk, sat down while Besca led Quinn to one of the seats. She stayed standing, so that she could keep a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder. She didn't particularly want to break contact with her in a place like this. "So," he said, and though it looked like he meant to address Besca, his attention suddenly shifted to Quinn. "How are you feeling, darling?"</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein "I'm—" Quinn cut herself off. She looked up at Besca next to her almost as though she was afraid she'd disappear, then back down to Doctor Follen. "I—" His smile made her feel safe. His office made her feel safe. They were both so warm and so comforting, and all the pictures were so happy, even if the smiles made the wound in her heart peel open that much more. She tried again. Her voice was thin and reedy, and she couldn't clear her throat because it hurt too much. She wondered if she should smile. She wondered if she could smile. She tried. She couldn't. "I'm...I'm okay, I guess." He was nice. He was really nice. His green eyes made her feel—they didn't make her feel good, but they made her feel just a little bit better. She sniffled. "My...my body—everything hurts, it all hurts. I can't—can't walk on my own, Besca helped me." She opened her mouth again, then closed it. Why was he so nice to her? He reminded her of Besca. Or of Safie. The word bounced around in her head like an echo chamber. Safie. Safie. Safie. "And—" she choked up, tears suddenly streaming from her eye again as she pressed her hands against her face, hiding the sound of her crying. She needed to stop crying. "And—" Besca's hand was still on her shoulder. Her warm hand, her caring hand. A minute or so passed, and the sobs faded again. She dropped her hands, staring at them, at the wetness of one and the dryness of the other. Why? "A—and Besca said someone put something on my back by mistake, but—" She was crying again. "But she said she'd fix it, and she—" Why were they all so nice to her? She was bent nearly double now, sucking breaths in through her teeth. Deep breaths in and out, fighting to keep her muffled voice from breaking again. "She said she—she would m—make it all okay!"</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. "That's right," Besca said. She felt a bit guilty that she hadn't stepped in sooner, but if Quinn was feeling up to speaking, it was best to let her. "There must have been some kind of mistake on the patient list. Someone, and she tried her best not to overemphasize that word, "Performed a modioscory on her, gave her the implants. She's not an applicant, we don't know even know if she's compatible—" "Oh, she is. Yes, I had her tested first thing." "…So you operated on her?" "I most certainly did." Besca paused, stumped, and though his face didn't change she could tell he was infuriatingly satisfied with it. He'd just admitted to performing a life-changing surgery on a child, without any consent. To his boss. Granted, as interim-commander she could only recommend canning him, but still, this was bold, even for him. Follen leaned forward, hunched to be at-eyes with Quinn. "Miss Loughvein—may I call you Quinn?—we're strangers, you and I. I'd like to be friends, of course, but for right now we're only just getting to know one another. My mother, you see, she told me that you don't have to be friends with someone to do nice things for them. To help them." "You're not—" Deep breath. Even tone. "A modioscory isn't a gift, doctor Follen." "Oh, I disagree," he said, still not taking his eyes off of Quinn. "Very much, yes, very much. No, Quinn, you've been through so much, and you've been so brave. And commander Darroh, Besca, here, you know, she came to visit you every day, for hours. Once or twice I'd come by in the morning to check on you, and there she'd be, asleep in those dreadfully uncomfortable chairs. She cares about you a lot, Quinn, and I think you care about her, too. I think you're already very good friends." He dropped his head down onto hands, almost playfully, smiling still. "Do you want to stay here, Quinn? In the Aerie? With Besca?"</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Quinn gripped her hand, hard, and Besca stroked her arm worriedly. She was afraid again, or rather more afraid. Her outburst when she'd woken up had been concerning, of course, but given what she'd survived, it was easy to write off as hysterics. Or it would have been, had she not had a frankly staggering amount of modium in her system. That happened now and then, especially when the singularities were so close. Had anyone else survived, Besca was certain they'd have had a mass-poisoning to manage in the aftermath. But Quinn hadn't been poisoned. At least, the singularity hadn't put that much modium in her. She had a growth in her eye socket, small, filed. Those sort of symptoms only popped up in two kinds of people: pilots, and those with severe, or chronic exposure. "Just don't...don't send me back!" Something was wrong. Oh god. Something was horribly, horribly wrong. A hundred puzzle pieces scattered themselves on the floor of her brain, and as she scrambled to fit them together into that atrocious picture, she saw Follen's eyes shift to her, and his smile thinned, ever so slightly and so briefly it would have passed before Quinn's blink. He already knew. This was over. It had been over before she'd walked into his office—before the surgery, even. "Quinn," he said, and his jovial tone turned serious, but no less comforting. "That is the absolute last thing I want. That's why I did this—for you." He sat up in his chair, upright, authoritative. "I saw how good of friends you were, how important you seemed to each other. I wanted to protect that. And I thought of other ways, internships, secretarial work, but considering how much of a…toll this tragedy has taken on the RISC, that all simply isn't viable. Legally speaking, we're obligated to return you to your parents as soon as possible." He shook his head. "I don't want that. Besca doesn't want that. Quinn, I don't think you want that, either. "So I did the only thing I could, the only option left to us. If we're going to keep you here, we have to tie you to RISC, indelibly. We have to make you so important to us that no one can take you away." Besca frowned. She could have begged him not to say it. "You're going to be a pilot."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein "You're going to be a pilot." Quinn froze. Cold sweat beaded on her neck, trickling around the little circles that she was suddenly very aware of. You're pilot Dahlia, right? You said you were a pilot too, right Safie? Her teeth started to chatter. If I'd have grown up here I'd never have become a pilot. She stared at Doctor Follen, eye twitching ever so slightly. It couldn't—that didn't make any— "No, I—No, no I can't, I—" We have to make you so important to us that no one can take you away. "N—no, no no—" She clutched at Besca's arm again, this time with both hands, gripping it as tightly as she could with her aching body. "Pilots—they—" An image flashed in front of her eyes: Safie's Savior, head shorn from its shoulders, looming over the crumbled corpse of Hovvi. Another image: a Savior screaming towards the elevator out of the night, growing larger in her sight as she walked-stumbled-crawled away. A slideshow of violence shuttered across her mind. There was that keening sound again. ...Oh. It was still her, wasn't it? But more images: Besca holding open the door. The cookies she'd bought on the street. Stroking her hair, Breathe. You didn't do anything wrong. The needles at home, staring at the door, staring at the screen, lying on the bed for hours and hours and hours, days filled with white walls and gray and gray and gray. She didn't want to go back. She didn't didn't didn't. She clamped her mouth shut, cutting off the sound. She closed her eye and concentrated on Besca's hand on her shoulder. She didn't want to leave her. She couldn't leave her. If she left her, she didn't know what she'd do, what she could do. Her teeth still chattered. She felt a little bit like she couldn't breathe. She didn't want to go back. She didn't want—Besca was there. Besca wouldn't let her go back. "Th—" She couldn't stop the chattering, cutting up her words and turning them almost incomprehensible. "The—there's—rea—eal—lly...no o—o—other w—way?"</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca gritted her teeth when she figured Quinn wasn't looking, tried to keep herself calm as the girl began to shiver apart again. Follen's eyes heavied with perfect, reptilian sympathy, that left no trace of the smugness he'd shown her. "I wish very much that there was, Quinn. I would have gladly opted to simply hide you away here, but, with Besca's new position of authority…well, it could get both of you in a lot of trouble. And then you'd just get sent home anyway." He shook his head again, as if he'd tried to consider it. "No. No, I'm afraid this is the only way we can keep you here. And…well, I'm afraid I don't even know if it's certain to work, yet." "Aldous…" Besca said, embarrassed by how close it sounded to a plea. "Besca," he replied evenly. "We should be honest with her. She deserves that from us both, don't you think? And besides, friends are honest with each other." Follen got up, walked around the desk and crouched down beside Quinn's seat. Besca fought the urge to pull her away. Even harder she fought the urger to lash out and swat him. "Quinn," he said, in a soft voice she knew he'd picked up from her, from how she talked to Dahlia. "You see, I've done what I can. I pushed you to the front of the line, and together Besca and I can get you into the seat—but you have to perform. I know it sounds cold, it is, and it's not fair, either. I want you to know I wouldn't have done this if I didn't have every confidence in you." He reached a hand out, stroked her other shoulder. The hair on the back of Besca's neck bristled. "You are a strong, brave girl. You are sitting here with us right now, because you are meant for this. And I know, I know it deep in my heart that you will fight for what's important to you. Besca and I, we'll both be right there with you, every step, no matter what. You will have our undivided support. The only thing we want you to do is your best." His eyes turned up to her, smile unflinching. "Isn't that right, commander?" She swallowed hard. She didn't know what to say. Again. God, it seemed like she never did. There was too much to think about, between the horrific secret of Quinn's past, to the potentially catastrophic future awaiting her. A sword dangling over the girl's head, bound by so many threads but every one Besca tried to untangle seemed to loosen two more, and if she wasn't careful the thing would plunge. She had to tell herself again that she'd lost. That Follen had won at a game she hadn't even known she was playing. "He's right," she said, finally. The words were acid in her throat. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. This is…this is the only way." Besca squeezed Quinn's hand back, tight. "I'm sorry…"</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. It was hard to see much of anything in the dark, just the odd, vaguely furniture-shaped blobs, and the bed against the far wall. The carpet was soft underfoot, steamed, but the room lacked the same sterile smell of the medical ward. It seemed that someone had stopped whoever had come to clean it. Light from the common room struck in, carving a thin slice through the shadows, onto the bed. The weeping ceased, suddenly, sharply, as a figure looked up from the pillows. The light didn't reach them, but it did reach the jacket clutched tightly in their hands. Safie's jacket. Their eyes sprung to life with electric-blue light, scanned her for a moment. A small, choked sound reached her ears. "Q-Quinn…?" Dahlia crawled to the end of the bed, slunk down to the ground, practically dragging herself into the light. She looked awful. Her eyes were wide, red, set into dark pits that must have taken days to dig so deep—the artificial light in them flickered out, left them dim and puffy. Her face was dirty, tear streaked, her hair was dried and fraying. It fell over her like a tattered veil. She stared up at Quinn, held Safie's jacket closer. Unwilling to let it go, her face screwed up and she just leaned forward into her, head against her shoulder, then down to her stomach as she crumbled to her knees. "I'm so sorry I'm so sorry." She gulped down air unevenly, frantically. Her words dribbled onto the floor. "I should've gone I should'vefaster—I wasn't—I thought you were gone they didn't tell me you wereyouwereasleep theydidn't…" A violent sob curled her, her forehead dropped to the floor. "They're all gone everyone's gone Quinn everyone's—Lucis and Ghaust and, and S aa— " her fingers gripped the jacket so hard she could've torn it. "And my dad Quinn they killed my dad. They killed my best friend and my dad and they killed everyone. Everyone's gone. I wasn't fast enough. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. Pleasehghh—I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn didn't know what to do. She'd never done this. She'd never comforted anybody, and certainly not on something like this, on everything she knew crumbling around her. How could she know what to do? She didn't even know what to do for herself. Her throat was still raw from the screams. Her own eye was still red and puffy. What could she do? ...What would Besca do? As carefully and steadily as she could, she slid down until she was also on the ground, resting on her knees. Her vision was starting to blur, and she could feel the water brimming up. She was still hurting. The thought of Daz made her hurt more. But with an effort to move mountains, she didn't let herself break down. Then she gently lifted the prone girl's shoulders off the ground before leaning in and catching her in a deep hug. She was weak, and she hurt, and she shook with strain, but she refused to move, clutching her tight to her in what she hoped was comforting instead of suffocating. Was this okay? Was she helping? Was she making it worse? Tears started to run down her face but she didn't let herself sob. She couldn't. She just couldn't. No matter what, she couldn't break down, she couldn't break down, she COULD NOT BREAK DOWN. "No," she forced out through the lump in her throat and the lead in her chest, quiet, as soft and gentle as she could. "No, no, it's not your fault, it's not." Her tears were obvious in her voice, and her control was steadily slipping as she closed her eye to squeeze a new rush of tears out. No. Don't let yourself. You can't. "You didn't—you didn't hurt anybody. You—you're alive, and—" She held her tighter. "And—" It hurt to talk through the lump, and her voice was shaking now. She was trying. But it was coming, and she couldn't stop it. So in the last breath she had before she couldn't hold on anymore, she murmured through a voice clogged with tears, "And S—Safie wouldn't—wouldn't want you to be sad." The tears came faster, and still she held Dahlia tight. And for her sake too. Daz was dead. Daz was...dead. It seemed like such a foreign idea. It didn't make any sense. He was like a mountain, strong and dependable and immortal. He'd saved— The thought struck her like a bolt of lightning. He'd saved her. He'd saved her. Instead of running. It was her fault that he'd died. Not Dahlia's. Hers. Then she was sobbing again, just like that morning. Clutching, heaving, desperate sobs, leaning into Dahlia's shoulder in turn. "No, no, it's my fault. It's my fault it's my fault it's my fault! He didn't—he could've gotten out—but I—but he, he needed to—he saved me and he—I—I didn't—I'm—" Why? Why? Why? Why? WHY? "I'm sorryyyyyyy..." Any words that might have been left in her disintegrated, and she finally broke down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. It would have been hard to tell for Quinn exactly when she'd fallen asleep. With the line having blurred before, it seemed once again that she'd slipped through the veil without noticing. Much like it had been on the lake, things were off, here. She was alone again, and, again, her body was not her own. It moved of its own accord, against her thoughts, against her will, and sat up in the bed of Safie's room. She wore the jacket, though it was too big for her, and had made a comfortable nest for herself amidst the blankets. Making her way out into the common room, she could see through the virtual windows that it was morning. Though last night the images had seemed artificial, now they looked so much more real. The sunlight felt warm on her skin, and there was a pleasant breeze. Outside, far, far below, but much closer than it ought to have been from Aerie's height, the sun rose over the smoldering ruins of Hovvi. Never Quinn stepped away, moved past the other rooms, all open and empty, and left the dormitory. Never In the cramped hallway it was cold, and the lights were low. The other door, the one to the hangar was gone, just a flat wall. Mist spilled over her feet. Quinnlash Away from her, the hallway changed. The floor, the ceiling, everything there faded away into a flat void, an open and endless and comforting expanse. Standing in the dark, illuminated by nothing and yet entirely, perfectly visible, was a single deer. Its fur was snowy, its head entirely bare of flesh, left a cracked and dusty skull, but it was not dead. It looked at her, its antlers tall and sprawling and so, so beautiful. It looked at her. It saw you. Never again. And then everything fell away, and only the dark remained. --- --- When she woke up, Quinn would find herself in Safie's bed, covers pulled over her, pillow under her head. Dahlia lay on the other side, back to her, still clutching the jacket. Her shoulders rose and fell softly in sleep. Down the back of her neck were the same set of plugs Quinn could assume now ran down her own. A small clock on the bedside table alleged morning, but in space it was so hard to tell. The door was cracked, and through it wafted the smells of breakfast. Coffee, eggs, and on her ears danced the arhythmic sizzles of bacon. And a gentle humming.</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein She stared at the ceiling. Quinnlash. Sink. Never. The same voice was there. It was always there. She shook her head. No. No. She had too much to think about. Barely five seconds out of sleep, and nerves were already digging hooks into her skin. Besca said that today was going to be hard. Really hard. She didn't know why. She stood, doing her best to do so without wincing or stumbling. She didn't want to make noise. She didn't want to wake Deelie. The gash in her heart felt a little better. And a little worse. Looking down at herself, she smoothed the hospital gown, plucked at it. Besca said she was going to get new clothes, right? She needed new clothes. The nerves kept gnawing. She reached behind her and felt around a little. Little metal plugs, gaps in her spine, trailing up her neck and down her back. It didn't feel good. It didn't feel okay. She shouldn't be able to put a finger into the back of her head like that. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. She walked over—a little easier, she felt a little bit better—to the door, placing a hand on it. A moment passed. She dropped her hand, staring. She had just woken up, and she was...supposed to push open the door, and just walk out. She tightened her jaw. It didn't feel right. It just didn't—it felt off. She opened her mouth. Besca, can...you open the door for me? She shook her head. She was going to be a pilot. Doctor Follen called her brave. She needed to be brave. She needed to open the door. She lifted her hand again, hovering there, not quite daring to touch it. She pushed. The door swung open quietly, and she resisted the urge to jump back from it. Her face stayed writ with trepidation that rapidly leaked away as she stepped out. Her hand stayed up. Then she lifted it in an awkward wave at Besca, who was moving fluidly through the kitchen. Her voice was quiet when she spoke, but not as hoarse, and her throat didn't feel as ragged. "Good morning..."</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Besca's face lit up when she saw Quinn. The girl looked—well, she didn't look great, but she hadn't woken up screaming, which, in her book, was definitive progress. Her eyes were still tear-swelled, her feet still needed some time to finish healing, but, baby steps. "Morning, Quinn!" She set the pan aside, turned the stove down, and scooped a small bag from the counter. Coming around, she held it out to her. "There weren't a lot of things in your size, but I found some of Dahlia's old stuff from when she was your age. She's never been much for fashion, but she always knew how to pick out the most comfortable stuff. Here, all yours. Go ahead and change, I'll set you up a plate." The bag wasn't particularly heavy, there wasn't much in it. A pair of bright salmon-colored pants, a pair of sweats, a small stack of cozy looking shirts, and some socks with the Hovvi flag on them, like you'd buy at an airport or a gas station. "And, ah," she knelt down, lowered her voice. "Thank you, Quinn. For going in there. For being with her. She's hardly spoken a word all week, even to me, and…I know she's not okay. I know neither of you are okay right now, but it's a good thing that you were there for each other." Besca ran a hand through Quinn's hair, stroked her thumb across her cheek. "Whatever you think, whatever you're afraid of…she's glad you're alive. So am I."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn took the bag, almost in a daze as Besca's hand ran through her hair. She wasn't ready to think about last night. She wasn't ready to unpack it. So instead, she just nodded, a little vaguely. She looked around at all the different closed doors, and headed to the one next to Besca's. She opened it, staring into the small room inside. Blink. Blink. "Besca? Can you..." She swallowed heavily. She needed to be brave. But she didn't want to need to be. "...Can you not shut doors after me?" With that said, she took the bag and slid into the room, making sure to leave the door cracked a few inches open. Then she opened up the bag. What did she want? Black sweatpants. They looked okay. She dug into the stack of shirts, pulling them out piece by piece until she found a mustard-brown t-shirt, holding it up against her in the mirror. It would fit, right? She tossed off the thin gown, replacing it in rapid time. It was a little too big for her, hanging loosely off her thin frame. The sweatpants were the same too. But otherwise, it looked okay, right? The socks went on last. She hadn't realized her feet were cold. She didn't recognize the flag. She shivered, reaching her hand back and poking at the plugs. They felt so wrong. Foreign. They weren't supposed to be there, and she knew it. She stroked her neck, bottom to top, and hissed in a breath at the sensation. Why did this have to happen? No. She was brave and strong. She had to be brave, and she had to be strong. Pushing the door open again—it still felt odd, like everything else today—she walked back through to the kitchen, glancing at Besca as she did. "Do I look okay?" Then she sat down in front of the plate of fresh, steaming food and picked up a fork. It was almost unbelievable. She was eating at a table. Just like she always saw online. The eggs were really good.</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Since Besca had met her, it seemed like each word Quinn uttered unnerved her more than the last. From the odd comments about her life, to the frantic pleas not to be left alone. Now this, with the doors. She had laid awake this morning, staring into the dark, contemplating the feeling of dread she'd felt in Follen's office, slowly realizing that something was horribly wrong with Quinn. The picture was still incomplete, but with every piece that fell into place, she doubted more and more that she wanted to see it done. It was too early for questions, Besca told herself. Prying now would only make things harder on her, and that was the last thing she needed, especially today. Quinn emerged from her room shortly, donned in clothes that struck Besca with a sense of nostalgia. "Do I look okay?" "You look great, hun," Besca said, smiling. She left the stove on a low simmer, in case Dahlia woke up, and brought her own plate over to sit across from Quinn. She watched her eat, saw how she looked at once uncomfortable and content, and smiled. This was good. This was necessary. Sitting with her, eating together, Besca felt a wight slough off her shoulders. She let herself enjoy it for a few, precious minutes. "They want to do the test this afternoon," she said. "So we're in no rush. Take your time. I made sure I'll be there through the whole thing, and after. When it's done we're gonna come right back here, and we can do whatever you want. Watch a movie, play some games—I've got a cookbook over there, you pick a recipe, and that'll be dinner tonight. You can even help, if you want to."</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. "Yeah. Yeah, you did great, Quinn." Dahlia hefted Quinn up to her feet, helped her stand, but kept an arm around her so the girl could lean as heavily as she needed. She looked back to Besca and Follen, not lingering so long on the latter. "I'm gonna get her back to the dorm," she said. They hobbled away, Quinn still sobbing, and vanished into the hallway. The instant the doors shut, Besca whirled on Follen. She seized him by the collar with a barely-restrained snarl, incensed by the fact that even that didn't elicit more than a cocked brow from him. He wasn't even looking at her, the rat fucking bastard. "She wasn't ready!" she shouted. "She wasn't ready you son of a bitch, she wasn't! We should have run sims!" Hands pulled her away, bodies squeezed in between them. She let him go, let herself be spaced away as he walked closer to the Savior. Ichor stained the floor, pooling into large drains while janitorial machines scrubbed up the residue. It leaked from the wounds Quinn had rent into the arms, stained the modium claws on its fingers. "Did she touch her face?" he asked. Besca shook the hands off her. "Fucking what?" "Her face. While she was phasing, she didn't touch her face. Not once—I didn't see it, did you? No. Just clutched her arms." He shook his head, not disappointed, but confused. "She didn't scream, either. No indication she was in pain." "What the fuck are you talking about?" "Come here, Besca." Hands still wound into shaking fists, she walked over to him. His head was craned up, and a curious smile crept onto his lips. She followed his gaze to the Savior's slumped face, to the mouth limply agape, wet with dark slaver and hot breath. And ichor. So much of it, dripping down its teeth, down its chin and into the drains. It stared down at them vacantly, red eye dim. Red eye. Eye. One of its eyes was gone. Besca gasped loud, almost staggering back. Gone, the socket was empty—no, not just empty, burst. It was as though the eye had exploded, not a trace of it remained. "Interesting," Follen muttered. "So very interesting." --- --- They'd gotten Quinn back into her own clothes and into the lift without issue. The ride was just as quiet, broken by the occasional sob. The dorm was still empty. Dahlia kept a firm and steady hold on Quinn, guiding her to the room beside Besca's. She laid her down on the bed, flicked on a light on the nightstand. "It's over, Quinn. You did it. You did good. Just relax. Breathe." She vanished for a moment, in the bleary dark between blinks, and returned with a glass of water. "Try to drink something. That helped me my first few times."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn blinked slowly, letting Dahlia's words filter through to her. Tears were still running down her face, but her sobs had quieted to only one or two hiccups. "Try to drink something. That helped me my first few times." Drink something? Drink what? What was she going to drink? Her head was swimming and she forced her eye to move, to see what had just been plunked down on the nightstand. A glass of water. Water. Water. Her entire body went rigid and her eye sprang open. Water. Water. The smell lingered in her nose. Water. Water. Bitter, bitter, bitter. The smell was burning. Her vision swam. Was it clear? Was it dark? She couldn't tell, she couldn't tell, but it smelled dark and—and— NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO "NO!" The desperate shriek burst from her without warning and she lashed out, sending the glass hurtling violently into the wall. It smashed into shards, sending water exploding around the room. She shrank away from it with a high whimper like a hurt animal's, wrapping the blanket around her and huddling into the corner where the bed met the walls. Her eye flew across the room, back and forth and back and forth between the shards of glass and the wet stain on the wall, and she covered her head with her arms. Her chest heaved, faster and faster and faster, until finally—inevitably—the scream came. It was a shrill, piercing, terrified thing that lasted for what felt like centuries. The water still ran down the wall. The smell was still there, all around her, just like at home. It was all still there. Still there. Still there. Hands still held above her head like someone was about to hit her, she eventually trailed off into a fragmented, senseless gibbering, which in turn gave way to words squeezed through renewed sobs: "No, no, no, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry, please don't make me drink it, I don't want it, it hurts it hurts it hurts, pleeeeaaaaaaaseeeeee no no NO NO!"</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Dahlia jolted as the water was thrown from her hand, yelped when the glass shattered against the wall. Quinn fell into a panic, curled like a cornered animal and let out a terrible scream. Still sitting there, Dahlia hunched away, winced, tried to keep it from sinking any deeper into her. She didn't leave, though. Part of her did want to, but that part was weak. So much of her was weak, and afraid, and helpless, and if she left Quinn now she'd be no different than she'd been a week ago. She'd be a failure. Still. And a bad friend. She couldn't be that anymore. Dahlia scooted over, closer. She took Quinn's hands gently from above her head, guided them low and held them tight. "Quinn—Quinn, hey." she kept her voice soft, calm, as best she could. "You don't have to drink it. You don't. I didn't—I didn't know. I'm not trying to hurt you, I promise. I'm sorry. Please, you have to relax. You have to, you'll hurt yourself. Please."</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. It started alright. Quinn slowly unfurled, inching closer. Just a bit more and she could pull her in, hold her, hope it would help. Then she started speaking again, almost a babble and nearly incomprehensible. Dahlia thought it was nonsense at first, that would make the most sense. A touch from the circuit lingering on a nascent mind. It happened now and then, that someone went in and was changed forever, sometimes too far. But Quinn hadn't been changed. Not really. It might have been the invasion that did this to her, but, if she thought about it, dug through the exhaustion and the memories—terrible, leave them be, you shouldn't—she could recall that Quinn had been peculiar even on the boat. Water, water, she'd mentioned it then, too. Asked if it was always so sweet. Safie…Safie had thought it was a joke. She had, too. And when she'd asked for the juice, how frantically she'd asserted that she wouldn't, if it had belonged to Dahlia. "It smells like the water from home." She sniffed the air. It just smelled like air. What did— "Open the door! Open the door, oh god, please, open it, open the door!" This time Dahlia did move. She sprung up from the bed, dashing over to the door and throwing it open. She whirled back to Quinn, concerned, frightful. "Quinn," she said, almost desperate. "What's going on? What are you afraid of?"</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein The door was slammed open, and the sound made her open her eye. It was open. Thank god it was open. "Quinn, what's going on? What are you afraid of?" She opened her mouth, and for a moment, nothing came out, could come out. It was still in the air around her. It was still there. "You—you don't—you don't smell it?" Her teeth were chattering again. "L—like...like bitter m—metal and acid?" It was hard for her to breathe, the smell hung so thickly around her. "It's—" She closed her eye again. "It's—" She didn't want to get out of bed, but the room was too small, too small too small and it smelled like—"Like how water tastes at home," she finished with a gasp. She was getting lightheaded now. Disoriented. More disoriented than she already was. "It's gray there." She didn't know if she meant the water or life. "Mom and—" She paused. She didn't want to say it. It felt wrong. She was so afraid. So afraid. It felt shameful to feel like this. She didn't know why she was so afraid. Her head was spinning and she went totally slack, opening her eye and staring unseeing at the ceiling. Why was she so afraid? They loved her, didn't they? They loved her, and—and she—she lo—she—she lov—loved—she—she lllll— Then all at once, it exploded out with a final rush of emotion. "Mom and Dad said I couldn't go outside because it was dangerous," she bawled, a runaway train now that could only pick up speed, "So I didn't, I stayed inside where they said it was safe, I stayed in my room where nobody could hurt me, but I snuck out and then I met youandImetBescaandthey'regoingtobesomadatme! Don'tsendmebackdon'tsendmebaaaaaaack!!!" By the end of it her words were garbled again as she bent backwards, her sense of time and place completely shattered. She dug her fingernails into her forehead and let tears run out from beneath her palms. "I'msorrryyy I shouldn't have left I shouldn't have left I'm—" And then the last of her words melted away, all the energy she had left faded, and she collapsed. She didn't even have enough left to sob. She couldn't do anything but let the tears run.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Dahlia listened to Quinn as she stumbled through her words, stuttered to get her thoughts running, and then failed to keep them controlled as they devolved into pitiful ramblings again. She listened, each word a drop of water in the pot. She thought, and the words simmered, and the pot began to boil. She stood there for a long time. "What…" she muttered, and it was all she managed. Almost in a daze, Dahlia made her way back to the bed. She lowered herself down, legs suddenly weak, stomach suddenly churning and for a moment she tasted acid in her throat, threatening to drag her breakfast up with it. It was like Quinn was a thousand miles away, but she could still hear her crying silently. What did they do to you? she wanted to ask, but part of her already had an idea. The pieces were small, but they were many. The water. The doors. The panic. Something terrible had been done to Quinnlash. Not once, not twice, but every day of her life. Every day. Her mom and dad… It's gray there. "You—" she started again, and then swallowed the rising lump in her throat. Laying back helped the nausea, so she settled down beside Quinn, stared up at the ceiling. "You're not in trouble, Quinn. You…you were never in trouble, and you never have to say sorry for any of that stuff again. Not to me, not to Besca, not to anyone." She felt a grimace twist her face up. Anger did the same to her insides. "And if your parents have a problem with that, they can write a letter, and you and I can shoot it out the airlock," she said, and looked over at Quinn, face still buried in her hands. "I'm not gonna let anyone lock you away. Ever. Never again. Do you hear me, Quinn? Never. Again."</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Sleep came to her softly, like turning her head from one side of the pillow to the next. One moment Quinn was shuddering, palms ground into her eyes, so tired, and the next— Morning rose over the lake. Black waves lapped gently at the boat's sides, rocking it just slightly enough to be soothing. Dawn warmed the cliffs, yellows and oranges chased deep blues from the sky. Birdsong. The distinct feeling that, far away on the shore, there were people talking. The moon's reflection painted the water. Quinn lay on a spread of towels, it took a few blinks for the world to come into focus for her. To one side was a cooler, open and stuffed full with bottles and cans and pouches of melonberry juice. A sweet memory ghosted across her tongue, gone in an instant. On the other side, the fishing poles stood in their loops, strings drawn in. Their hooks were gone, replaced with dull weights upon which the bait could rest and be nibbled without fear of injury. In the distance there was splashing. Laughter. Two silhouettes swam a short distance away, splashing at one another, racing out to a buoy some ways away. Further, on the shores of a forest along the lake's rim, something moved. White fur and bone, gone into the thicket. Quinnlash She wasn't alone, and she could feel the moment that became true, like a cold breeze through the warmth of the morning. Behind her, sitting on the railing was a small figure, and as the shadows slipped from it rinsed dirt, and it turned to her she saw— Herself. Quinnlash, as she had appeared the last time. Ten or eleven, eyes black rather than shining yellow. Her face still bore the thin lines of blood from her head, where the glinting, modium horns which had sprouted from her hair had grown ever so slightly. Perhaps an inch or two taller, they caught the light much clearer, and at their tips they seemed to be starting to split. She still looked almost bored. Her feet kicked absently overboard. "Hello, again."</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. "I told you, I appreciate the position you're in, Minister Toussaint. Losing a national idol isn't easy." "Losing Abroix isn't the problem, miss Darroh. Losing him with ministerial reviews so close is tantamount to murdering my career." Besca took the phone away to breathe, and swallow down the urge to scream at the man on the other end. "If you're looking for a murder charge, Jaime, that's all well and good. But you've got the wrong subject. Maybe take another look at the evidence I sent you, and then you tell me who should be on the block for what happened in Hovvi?" "He ran. From a situation you failed to prepare him for." "Killing civilians, RISC personnel, and pilot, she hissed. "You think Abroix's death is killing your career? What do you think happens if that footage goes public? My predecessor ordered it seized, not me—I'm under no obligation to hold it, and frankly, if I don't, you can expect the Runan people to be demanding repayment from Casoban." There was silence, and if anger weren't burgeoning within her, she might have let herself feel smug. Eventually Toussaint spoke again, his voice thin and frustrated. "Your predecessor," he said. "Understood the nature of our relationship. He understood how tenuous the ties between our countries are grown." "What? What do you mean 'tenuous'? "I mean that Westwel was fifteen years ago, commander. The sentiment of international unity between us is beginning to wear. Eusero has been pushing for partnership for years, and while miss St. Senn's abilities have been keeping our support exclusive, more and more the common citizen is starting to wonder what an affluent nation like Eusero could do for them. Our Savior programs being so interlinked will prevent that, but what do you think happens if I'm replaced with someone who doesn't value our relationship? "So go ahead, commander Darroh, release the footage. When the dwindling love between our people turns to fury overnight, see where that leaves you." It was Besca's turn to be silent, and Toussaint gave her the same courtesy to let her find her bearings. It took some time. "We can't repay you for Magnifique. We're crippled, we just can't." "I'm very sorry to hear that." "So you need to think of something else." A pause, then. "I'm sorry?" "Think of something else," she said. "Something else we can do to reaffirm things." There was a shout in the next room—Quinn? It was. She was starting to learn to recognize the sound of her screams. "Well what in the world would you suggest?" "I don't—uhm, what? It's your fucking country, Toussaint, figure it out." A thud, heavy, frantic footsteps. Her door flew open and Quinn came barreling in, so fast she carried on right past her and into the wall. "Quinn!" "Quinn? Commander, who—" "THE EYES!" "What was that?" Quinn was positively frenzied. There was wrought madness in her eye, and blood on her—she was bleeding. She was clawing herself like a panicked animal. Besca cut the call and tossed the phone aside, scrambling over and pulling Quinn's hand away from her arm. "Quinn! Quinn stop! What are you talking about? What eyes?" Dahlia appeared in the doorway, worry all over her face. "Towels! Get paper towels and—just grab the first aid kit!" Dutifully, the older girl ran off. Besca turned back to Quinn, still holding her firmly, desperately trying to calm her down. Eyes? What eyes?</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Even as Besca held on, Quinn strained fruitlessly against her. Still in the throes of a hysterical breakdown, she fixed Besca with a wild, unblinking eye. In between screams—"IT NEEDS TO HAVE BOTH EYES!"—almost inhuman noises, strangled guttural things, burst from her throat, and her hands curled into twitching claws. She tore the right from her forehead, leaving a furrow above her brow as she clutched at Besca's arm. She caught the shoulder of her shirt instead, and wrapped her hand into it so tightly that stitches started to snap and pop. "IT NEEDS TO!" Time ran together like ink into water and lost its cohesion. She didn't know how long she was there pinned against Besca, one hand gripping her shirt like a vise and the other held around the wrist and twisted into warped talons. It could have been hours; it could have been just a minute, or even less. The she heard footsteps and Dahlia's voice. Recognized the concern and borderline fear in Besca's eyes. The taste of iron spilled into her mouth as she bit the inside of her cheek. And all at once, the crazed energy drained from her like water from a glass. Her body remembered how exhausted it was, and she sagged like a puppet with its strings cut, falling back into the wall. The only thing that kept her upright was her arm, still caught in Besca's shirt. But even then—even with all the fire out of her head and all the cuts on her arm and forehead starting to hurt—her eye still stared sightless, and the only thing she could do was to keep coughing out "Please, please, the eyes, does it have eyes?"</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. Quinn went limp, falling back against the wall but for the grip she had on Besca's shirt. Besca caught her, lowered her to the floor as gently as she could and didn't let her go. She was dumbstruck, which, considering how utterly wrecked this girl had been since she'd woken up, was a statement in and of itself. Eyes, eyes, what eyes? "Quinn," she said, softening her own voice as Quinn's withered to a wheeze. "Whatever you saw, it was nothing, it was a dream. You're awake now, breathe. Breathe." Dahlia returned, roll of towels and small red bag in hand. She knelt down beside them, handed Besca a few swabs and a bottle of strong-smelling liquid, then took Quinn's hand in hers. "You're okay, you're okay. Relax. Talk to us." Besca wet the cotton swabs on the bottle, dabbed them lightly on Quinn's arm, over the shallow gashes. Nothing too deep, thank god, but a whole hand's worth of nail-work to worry about. It would sting slightly, but she wasn't sure Quinn would even notice in her state. Blood stained her lip as well—she must have bitten her tongue, or her cheek. What in the world was this? "What eyes, Quinn? she asked, low, sincere. "What needs to have its eyes?"</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Quinn's hands fell away, and Besca took the opportunity to continue cleaning her up. The scratches staunched easy enough, and she wiped her fingers clean with the towels. She dabbed her lips; the girl was slurring like a drunk, but it didn't look like she'd chewed through her tongue, and not deep enough into her cheek that she couldn't speak. Dahlia kept a hold of her hand, brushing fingers through her hair, checking where she'd clutched at her forehead. No blood there, thankfully. "Th' Savior. Tell me 's got both eyes. Pleeeease." Besca shivered. So she had noticed it after all; it had happened during the phasing. God, but if she'd felt that she would have been shrieking through the comms, wouldn't she? She'd had pilots go numb, ignore the pain, but for someone like her? It didn't make sense. It didn't make any sense. "Don' wanna be them. Tell me 's not true." Now what did that mean? Besca watched Quinn's head roll back, watched her mumble nonsense into the air. Something was broken in this girl, and while she was no longer sure that break had happened during the invasions, it had certainly been irreparably worsened there. Quinn was not a pilot. She couldn't be. Besca was absolutely certain of that now more than she'd ever been before—a bar so high Aerie Station couldn't have cleared it. Her mind was gone, and if she was ever going to get it back, it wouldn't be in the cold dark of a cockpit. There was no way she could go back there. No way Besca would let her. God, but she couldn't make that promise. She'd seen the readings. The times. She was fast—very fast. Off the top of her head, she could think of two, maybe three pilots in the world who could match or pass the speed she'd phased in that test, and one of them was sitting right next to them. RISC wouldn't let that go. They didn't see how unfit she was, they saw her numbers, they saw statistics. They saw a buoy in the storm of the Hovvi disaster, and they were going to latch on. "Your Savior…" she said, thinking it over. "It, uh…it did lose one of its eyes during the test." And it wasn't regenerating. But she didn't say that. It wouldn't help, and she was being paranoid. Head wounds always healed slower, and the process wasn't always uniform. Sure, normally they'd have seen some sort of mending in the socket, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to happen. It had lost an eye. That didn't mean anything. It didn't.</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn stilled. When she'd heard that the eye was gone—oh no—she'd expected panic. More panic, more blinding nightmarish panic. But instead, everything went completely and utterly quiet in her head, but for a high ringing. She felt for a moment like she was back there on the lake, back in the dream. And she thought. She'd felt something when she pressed her hand deep into her eye socket, she'd thought. Something hard. Something that shouldn't be there. She didn't know if she wanted to ask. She didn't know if it was there at all. So she didn't touch it again. But the thought burrowed into her mind, taking root all the way in the back. And what was displaced, what came forward through that—floating like a bubble in water to the surface—was a simple thought. One that she hadn't ever expected to think. It felt wrong to even entertain it; but it didn't make sense anymore, her eye breaking from looking outside. It had never made sense. It wasn't just wrong. It wasn't just stupid. Rotten place, full of rotten people. The thought crystallized then, into five words: They had lied to her. And then, another thought. And this one carried with it the bitter smell and dark tint of water. The twisting of a sick stomach. The image of a door with no knob and four white walls and only a screen for sixteen years. It carried an echo of the wonder she'd felt stepping out for the first time. That first talk with Besca. The clarity and sweetness of...of normal water. The terrible feeling of terror that she'd felt as she'd emptied herself in the lake, the first RUN that had beaten through her head. The giant with the cannon, staring at her. Hunting her. HER. Rotten place, full of rotten people. She stared at the ceiling still, as all these images played behind her eye. Her voice had lost all inflection, all emotion, blank and toneless. Hollow, as the thought rushed through her. And that thought, she spoke. "What did they do to me?"</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. There was quiet, without intent. What had they done to her? A vague question, and Besca could only sit there and think. She thought about Hovvi, about the interview, and the feeling that something wasn't quite right with Quinn even though they'd only just met. She thought about her questions when she'd woken up. Her panic, so much panic, so much fear and all of it made sense viscerally but logically, emotionally… She thought about Follen, and their talk in his office. He had known something that she had only just begun to piece together—a puzzle she was too afraid to complete. She was still too afraid. "They hurt you." Hands came to rest on Quinn's cheeks, guided her head back down to meet Dahlia's eyes. The girl knelt in front of her, holding her gently by the face, not firmly, but unyielding. She could not look away. "They lied to you," Dahlia said. Her lips quivered, but with how still her face was, it was impossible to tell if it was the grief or the anger that touched her. Her eyes glistened, but no tears spilled. "And they hurt you." They hurt us. A chill bristled Quinn's skin, not sharp, it was almost comfortable in fact. The hollowness that had enwrapped her cooled, eased into a pervading calm. In the doorway a small figure stood, too shadowed to see much but the glinting of the metal horns on her head. She watched impassively, but Quinn could feel something radiating from her, touching her, or perhaps it was trying to escape from her own depths. Anger. It wanted her to feel angry. But below that was something else, something…curious. Probing. It wanted to know why she was so resistant. It's not fair. They locked us away. They hurt us. "They can't hurt you anymore. Quinn." Dahlia sounded so sure. So certain. "We won't let them." The shadow's head turned down in thought. The light caught her, illuminating the barest hint of confusion on a strange face. Then in a blink she was gone. The chill went with her, and warmth found Quinn again. It was just the three of them. Dahlia before her, Besca besides, cleaning her up. Just them. Safe. That feeling came next, and it was foreign, but it was the first one to come to her as a suggestion, not a demand. An acquiescence. Safe…</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. --- --- --- ---</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. --- ---</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. The earth shook with the footsteps of giants. Enavant vaulted the mountaintop, coming down hard on the forest decline. He slid, the trees snapped beneath his hip and he flattened a wide swath on his way to the base. Desmon Solier's body sweat through the chill of the cockpit, but for now all he could feel were the seconds clawing for hold as they ripped by. Twenty to go. The hills opened up before him, miles and miles of shallow rises and river-marked valleys. Plenty of space at a glance, but was it really enough? Behind him a low, bestial howl pierced the wind. It would have to be enough. He hit the mountain's bottom and kicked off into a sprint. His Savior was larger than the average, but still fast. Desmon had run track as a boy, he had the form, and the beast had the lungs. Even if he wouldn't win out in the long run, he only had to last fifteen more seconds. "She's just left Spectre," Toussaint's voice came through the comms. Normally a composed man, Desmon could hear the barest hint of revulsion in his voice. "You'll have time but you need as much distance as you can get." Enavant pushed harder, ran faster. He didn't think about Spectre, about the sound of Lousei's screams before control had cut her comms. She was already dead when he'd left her, or as good as. Mourn later, win now. Five seconds. He stomped through the narrow valleys, the courses of centuries-old rivers changed underfoot. Hands digging into the hillside, he pulled himself up onto a level stretch of the plain as another howl reached him. He froze, whirled. In his hands he held a wing-tipped spear as long as he was tall, and as he clutched it tighter, a coil of white light spiraled up the blackened shaft. The tip burst into pale fire. Enavant phased. He felt a static tingling on the back of his brain. He heard his own thoughts in stereo, layered with the thoughts of something else that was trying to be him as much as it was trying to undo him. As long as it had taken him to run out the first clock, he now raced a second. Three years without a growth, but today he feared he might walk out of the cockpit and into the operating room. If he walked out. "She's coming," Toussaint said. Enavant held his spear across his body, as though he meant to slash out with it, and waited. Waited. He did not need to wait for long. It cleared the mountain he'd come from, a Savior silhouetted by the sun. It fell upon the side gracelessly, righting itself partway down and then leaping into the air and crashing down onto a low-rising hilltop. Earth and rock exploded beneath it, the hill caved into a storm of dust. Enavant swung his spear out, the light on its haft and the fire of its tip left a white-hot trail that lingered behind as an after image, then two, then three. They hovered before him, spears of burning light. With his free hand he clasped one, twirled it ready and reeled it back. Moments passed. The dark edged his vision, his Savior had no eyelids to blink it away. A shape pulled a plume of dust to the side like cloth. Enavant stepped and launched the fiery spear forward. It soared like a bolt of lightning, the air shattered at its tip, and it connected with the dirt in an explosion of white flame that blew the dust away and replaced it with a gout of silvery smoke. The shape carried on, buried itself into the earth. Desmon felt a spike of confusion as the smoke cleared and he saw that it was not a Savior. It was an axe, and in the next moment it vanished. She came charging from the ruined hillside. Smaller than he was, but more for the thinness of its limbs than its height. In one hand she clutched a second axe, a mirror to the first; its hilt was short and its blade curved wickedly down almost to the curled pommel. Her other hand reached out, clawed fingers clutching into a fist. The air bunched in her grasp, tore like paper, and with a sharp swipe she ripped her first axe back into being. Blotklau ran at him, not like a person, but like a beast trying to mimic one. Her mouth was a fanged, panting grin, her eyes a foursome of red fury. She was drenched in ichor, and though there were a number of gashes on her body, Desmon knew that most of it had come from whatever was left of Spectre. What would she leave left of him? "Solier!" Desmon snapped back, snatched another spear from the air and hurled it at her. Blotklau ducked low like a dashing wolve, digging her axes into the earth for leverage as the bolt passed over her, only managing to sear her shoulder. He grabbed the next one—god, she was close—and took a moment to aim, to try and anticipate. With as much force as he could muster, he loosed the spear, and with her drawing ever closer he was certain she couldn't dodge it. And he was right, she couldn't. She didn't. Instead, she whirled one of her axes up with incredible speed and slapped it by the haft, sending it spiraling out and unwinding into smoke. There was no time to make more. There was hardly time to grab his spear with both hands. He wasn't primed for a melee, he was meant for support. He'd done so well when it was two versus two, when he and Spectre had pinned the second opponent down and pierced its heart. Alone, what was he meant to do, really? Blotklau opened her mouth wide, roared so loudly Desmon thought he could feel his real ears pop. She leapt into the air, axes raised high over her head, and all he could do was scream back and bring up his spear. Then she was on him. --- --- Dahlia was on her, throwing fast but telegraphed hooks at Quinn's head with her kick-pad gloves. "Remember, don't watch my hands, watch me," she'd said. "Watch my body, watch my eyes. Don't try to figure out what I'm going to do, I'll tell you. You just have to listen." This had been their routine for the past month. Dahlia couldn't really practice with her in Dragon, so when Quinn wasn't getting adjusted to moving around in her own Savior, she brought the girl here, to the pilot's gym. When she'd first started, Besca had told her that CQC was the bedrock of all Savior combat. The giants moved as fast and felt as responsive as their own bodies, and if weapons couldn't be relied upon—or in some cases, especially if they could be relied upon—then you had to know how to kick and punch like you meant it. Dahlia still had trouble swinging at Quinn like she meant it. But they'd been rigorous, their hours were long and hard, and once they'd gotten her over the initial aversion to hitting back, Quinn picked up fighting pretty quick. Besca came by when she could. Today she couldn't, but she'd promised to meet them for lunch when they took a break. There was no window in the gym, but a wall clock promised that once this set was finished, they could be done until their evening session.</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Dahlia joined her, panting, and showed no qualms about using the wall for support. She leaned back and slid down to a sit, peeling the helmet off her head. Hair was sweat-stuck to her face, she blew strands out of her mouth and took long draws from her own water bottle. It seemed like she was even more winded than Quinn was. Perhaps that shouldn't have come as such a surprise; Dragon wasn't a marathon Savior after all, it was a sprinter. "Good," she breathed hard between gulps. "You're getting quicker. S'good. Gotta watch the blindspot—if I hadn't caught you with that hook, I think you would've gotten me." These sessions had been good for Dahlia, too. Teaching was more difficult than she'd suspected it would be, harder than Besca or Ghaust made it look, and she was always anxious that she might explain something poorly, or unintentionally help foster bad habits. Her lessons weren't perfect, and were far more about instinct and reflex than anything else, but seeing Quinn improve so much in such a short time—especially with her particular background—gave her confidence. It also reminded her that one day, perhaps sooner than not, Quinn might have to put what she'd learned to use. That was much harder to square herself with, but she tried, if for nothing else than to make things for Quinn easier. There was enough stress in this job already. "We can call it for now, what are you feeling for lunch? Tohoki Grill? CB Danes? We could always grab whatever's in the mess, or something from the vending machines. Your call—I'm starved, I'll eat anything." It was true enough, but Dahlia and Besca had both been making efforts to give Quinn choices where they could. They kept the schedule as strict as the higher-ups commanded, but when it came to things like meals, or movie night, or even just what she did with her spare time, it was important that she felt she could choose. She got up off the ground, tossing her gloves and pads into the hamper. She gave her sister an expectant smile. "So? I'll text Besca once we're settled down."</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Ah. They were done. God, she couldn't chug down the water fast enough. She pulled the helmet off, readjusting her eyepatch strap where it started to slip, and spiked it into the ground—not the most comfortable, was it?—before shaking her braid back to the center. Her chest was still heaving, sucking in long, deep breaths. Still, she couldn't help but huff out an almost scornful amused breath, which was about as far as she ever came to laughing these days. "Hah, you and I both know that's not true. I'm still a looong way from beating you." She took another long drink. "Definitely gettin' closer though. Almost tagged you with that last one." She was...mostly satisifed with how she'd done. That kick had strained her a little more than she wanted it to, though, and it wasn't even a particularly high one. She penciled in train flexibility more on her mental docket. One last pull from the bottle and she'd drained it, dropping it to the ground and knocking it into the wall with a gentle tap. She always tried to catch it with her foot, but it almost never worked. One day, she thought. "Your call." As always, being able to choose sent both a warm thrill and a cold shock down her spine. Being able to choose meant being able to choose wrong, after all, and the last thing she ever wanted to do was disappoint anyone, especially her new family. As time went on, though, the feeling was starting to drop, and making decisions was starting to come more easily to her. "Been craving some noodles," she said, tearing the last of the pads off and sending them after Dahlia's, "and we've been eating at Dane's a lot the past few days. You okay with Tohoki?" Walking over to the exit and wiping off her forehead, she fished her phone out of the little mesh pocket by the door and slid it into her own. She still marveled at the sleek little dark gray thing sometimes. She owned a phone. Quinnlash Loughvein owned a phone! A month ago she never would've dreamed of having one, and now she slid one into her sweatpants pocket every morning. It was didn't even seem real. Kicking out the improvised doorstop, she yanked the door open—it was getting easier every day—and stood in the frame, propping it open. "Lead the way, Deelie." It wasn't just to be polite. Something about leading people somewhere, she'd found, dropped a ball of anxiety into the pit of her stomach. She was trying to get better about it, she really was. But today, she just wanted to follow.</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. "Lead the way, Deelie." And Deelie did. She'd picked up early on how Quinn didn't much like spearheading things, which was, again, entirely reasonable. Her having picked the place was an accomplishment itself, so today, Dahlia would lead the way, hold the doors, bring them to their seats, and Quinn could breathe a bit easier. The garden commons were bustling. This month had seen RISC's numbers bolstered again, not quite to its strength before Hovvi, but enough that the Aerie didn't feel like a ghost station anymore. Those had been hard weeks; Dahlia would come here now and then, to sit under the center pastel and imagine herself under the shade of the woods near her home. It was so quiet. What crew had remained worked in tight shifts, only a few dozen were ever around, spread so thinly around that for a while the only faces she saw besides Besca and Quinn were Follen, and the janitorial staff. Now the tables and benches were full. The cafeteria on the floor below was packed, and Danes above sounded much the same. Tohoki Grill was a proper sit-down place, with an "outdoor" patio umbrellaed by scarlet tsubaki trees. Dahlia led the way inside. Lamps hung from the ceiling, their bulbs covered and set to flicker like dim candles. False windows were set into the wall, and behind them were digital screens that pushed artificial noonsun light through the slats. It smelled good in here. Like fresh fish and spices, and meat cooking on open fires through the wide-windowed kitchen. The head chef was a heavy-set and absurdly happy man from Tohoki, who made a point of putting extra servings on the plates of his skinnier customers. Quinn often found herself a lucky recipient. A waiter brought them to a corner booth, secluded but not isolated—Dahlia never sat them somewhere where they were entirely alone. They ordered their drinks, and took a third menu. Dahlia texted Besca where they'd settled. "So what're you feelin'? I might try the sake-saffron chicken—Besca says it was all she ate for a month once and she never got sick of it."</s>

<|description|>R.I.S.C. Runan Isles Savior Corps --- Established in the wake of Westwel's destruction, the Runan Isles Savior Corps is by no means the most impressive program on Illun, but it's well-funded and well-run by a few survivors of Westwel's own Corps. Character Info Name – Besca Darroh Age – 35 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Originally from Westwel, Besca Darroh has been around Saviors her entire life. Her grandfather had helped fell the Modir who would become "Dragon," and her father had headed Westwel's burgeoning Savior program. She met dozens of pilots, watched as their connection to the Modir ate away at their minds and bodies. Other nations treated their pilots like a resource to be burned through, kept at arm's length in all but public affairs. Besca, however, went out of her way to engage with Westwel's pilots and even piloting candidates, caring after them with a degree of humanity which was, frankly, missing in the programs of other nations. Her methods were derided as frivolous and naïve by her peers, but the pilots appreciated it, which, to her, was all that mattered. She lost many things in Westwel's fall; her home, her father, her friends, and no small piece of her faith in humanity, but ironically enough she didn't lose her job. When Runa took in her country's refugees, and subsequently acquired their first Savior, they came to the last living member of Westwel's program for help in founding their own. Nowadays, Besca doesn't often involve herself in the politics of the program. Technically speaking she isn't even chief of operations—a position occupied by the Runan government—but rather, her duties revolve around "pilot maintenance." While she hasn't lost her desire to make life easier for the pilots, she isn't nearly as incorrigibly optimistic or sunny as she once was. Character Info Name – Dahlia St. Senn Age – 18 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Dahlia was a toddler when her home was destroyed by the Modir, spirited away from Westwel in the arms of a family friend. She spent the first fourteen years of her life in the quiet, lakeside town of Hovvi. She was, like many children, absolutely enthralled by the Saviors, so when she tested positive and was whisked away into orbit, Dahlia thought her dream had come true. She missed her friends, and her adoptive father, but this was her opportunity to do something important. This was her chance to help. She had no idea. Runa's Savior, Dragon, had not been phased by a single pilot until Dahlia entered the cockpit. With its potential finally unleashed, she was able to end invasions within minutes—which was crucial, because she couldn't remain connected for much longer than that before the giant's neural regeneration reached critical levels. Dahlia has become Runa's WMD, and as such, she actually doesn't pilot as much as she did before R.I.S.C. acquired its two other Saviors. Besca has become rather protective of her, not wanting to risk putting her in situations where she may be forced to over-exert herself, or risk being overtaken. Character Info Name – Hadrian Ghaust Age – 38 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. Hadrian Ghaust is Helburke personified. He is strong, unrelenting, stoic to a chilling degree, and utterly devastating in the cockpit. Ghaust is also a veteran pilot, having commanded the Savior Marrowman in service of the Helburken crown for 20 years, and despite a phasing speed so slow that he rarely deigns to use his magic at all, he was well on his way to becoming one of his country's most accomplished pilots. However, Ghaust's priority has always been the fight against the Modir, and Helburke's clamor for political power is something he viewed with silent disdain. To him, using Saviors to settle diplomatic disputes isn't just wasteful, it's shameful. So, when Helburke ordered him to bring Marrowman to bear against the newly-risen Runa's Dragon, he refused. When, then, he was given the ultimatum of going through with the duel or forfeiting his rank and position, he looked his general in the eye, ripped the pilot's medal from his collar, and left his home behind. Overnight Ghaust was made a Pariah in Helburke, and his home turned against him. He was forced to leave, and though several foreign programs sought him out, Ghaust denied them all, even passing up a pilot's seat in Eusero. Instead, he went straight to the burgeoning program in Runa, who was more than happy to take him. Character Info Name – Safie Calhan Age – 22 Affiliation – R.I.S.C. R.I.S.C.'s newest pilot, Safie has spent the past year earning her place at Dahlia and Ghaust's sides. Born and raised in Runa's largest city, Queenshand, Safie was one of countless starry-eyed youths who dreamed of the day she'd get to step inside the cockpit of a Savior. A positive connection-test put her on the path, but it was the months upon months of personal training, rigorous study, and nights spent running sims until dawn that pulled her ahead of the other aspirants. With a phase potential speed just above average, she was a perfect fit between Runa's other two pilots. While Dahlia has accrued something of a heroic mythos about her, she's often reclusive and hesitant to make many public appearances. Safie on the other hand loves to meet the people she's helping, be that with personal visits, answering fan-mail, or simply getting her hands dirty cleaning up after the messier invasions. Some see her approach as distinctly Euseran, but Safie didn't become a pilot for the attention, she became a pilot because it was the right thing to do. Character Info Name – Lucis Abroix Age – 25 Affiliation – Casoban, on loan to the R.I.S.C. Casoban's sole effort to save Westwel, while ultimately futile, planted the seeds of goodwill between it and Runa. Casoban has always lived in the influential shadows of Helburke and Eusero, but allied with Runa, the two manage a strong presence on the world stage. As a show of solidarity, Casoban has even begun sending a Savior of its own as backup to Runa's invasions. Enter: Lucis Abroix. Lucis is perhaps one of Casoban's most beloved pilots, despite having only a handful of deployments to his name. Handsome, personable, with a poetic flare and the voice of an angel, many people back home already consider him the face of Casoban's Savior program—a role he is more than happy to play. Lucis makes regular public appearances, seemingly never missing an opportunity to espouse his love for the beauty of the world, and his burning desire to protect it from the Modir.</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein The salmon was really good. That one would get penciled down on her mental docket—and then her actual physical journal later—as one to come back to. The yuzu soda was good too, if a little odd. Kind of like sparkling water and lemonade with maybe a little grapefruit? She'd found so far she absolutely hated grapefruit, but if something that tasted like it could be good then it couldn't be all bad, right? They talked for the rest of lunch. Little things, meaningless things. Quinn talked about her favorite spots on the Aerie so far. Dahlia listened, then responded with suggestions of other places she'd like. Favorite foods came up too, Dahlia's firm preferences and Quinn's ever-evolving palate. As they wrapped up, Quinn's phone started to vibrate. That was one of her reminder alarms. Perfect timing, wasn't it? She slipped it out of her pocket, turning it off and taking a deep breath. Then she hopped up, sneakers squeaking a little against the lacquered floor. "That's my cue, I think. Sorry to cut lunch a little short!" Slurping down the last of her water, she jogged towards the entrance, waving at the head chef as she passed out from under the lamplit ceiling. He waved back, smiling widely. Why don't you ever smile? he'd asked her a week or so ago. She didn't really know how to answer him why she'd stopped smiling. It just didn't feel right anymore. Her jog carried her out of the commons and out towards medical. Over the past few weeks she'd started to learn her way around the labyrinthine interior of the Aerie, and now she could find her way pretty easily without checking for signs everywhere. But of all the places she went, the medical wing was probably her least favorite. Her flashbacks had steadily decreased with the course of time. But if there was anything most likely to trigger them, it was probably the sterile smell of those clean white hallways. As she entered, she slowed to a quick walk so as not to get in anybody's way. A few courteous nods greeted her, but she hadn't really gotten to know any of the medical staff. Well, with the exception of Doctor Follen, obviously. Speaking of, his office was right in front of her. Through the window she saw him bent over his desk, looking over some papers. It was admirable, she thought, how seriously she took his work. If Dahlia was her sister and Besca was—well, she supposed he was a bit like an uncle, right? She opened the door with a careful touch, rap-tap-tapping her hand on the jamb as she walked in, footsteps suddenly muffled on the cream-colored carpeting. Just like that first horrible day, this office always made her feel a little safer, a little more at ease. And his smile, even moreso. "Hey, Doctor Follen!"</s> <|message|>R.I.S.C. Follen's office was just as she remembered: safe, comfortable, small but in a way that didn't feel constrictive. In fact it was deceptively open. There were half-drawn blinds on the back wall, behind which a long, tall screen simulated daylight. He had the window partially 'cracked,' and from small speakers there was faint and arhythmic birdsong in the imaginary distance. Warm arm flowed in from the vents. Stepping in felt like donning a morning blanket. Doctor Follen looked up from his work, smiled just as warmly as the artificial sun behind him. "Ah, Quinn, what a pleasant surprise! I had a feeling you'd be by today, came to me while I was putting syrup on my waffles this morning. Come! Come, sit! We'll get started." He pulled a drawer open on his side of the desk, thumbed through a row of files and produced hers. It was already a finger thick, but Follen had assured her that it was because he found her so fascinating. And he did seem intrigued every time. Everything she told him, from her grief to her worries, to the stranger things, he never seemed judgmental, and he never treated her like she'd made a mistake. These are great, tangled knots, he had told her. Your complexity is not a curse, it is a gift, marvelous and beautiful. Never feel sorry for feeling, Quinnlash. Flipping the file open, he pulled a pen tucked behind his ear and clicked it. "So," he said. "First of all—tell me how you've been this week. How have you been sleeping? Eating? I've been monitoring the records from your piloting sessions—I'm very impressed. How have you felt these past couple times in the cockpit?"</s> <|message|>Quinnlash Loughvein Quinn slung herself down in one of the comfy padded chairs, enjoying the warmth—both literal and metaphorical. She had quite the file. She'd asked him what was in it once, but he'd just said "notes." She was okay with that. It made her feel...seen, that might have been the word. How had she been the past week? It was a bit of a loaded question; so much had happened in the last month that each week felt like it dragged for a year. Kicking back, she half laid down. The chair was so comfy, god. It was her favorite. "Well...the cockpit's been alright, I guess. I feel like I've made a lot of progress for sure, so that's nice." A brief pause. "...The tug-of-war is still there, though." She'd described her first phase in detail last session. Mostly the "you love this/you hate this" dichotomy that she'd been slammed with. Or the tug-of-war, as she'd started calling it. "It's not as bad, obviously, I feel like I've mostly gotten a handle on it, but it's still happening, and the voice is still there." And here, she paused again. This time for a much longer time. She'd been exceedingly reticent about her dreams, and Doctor Follen had definitely noticed. She didn't want to talk much about them. She was ashamed. Incredibly ashamed. She didn't remember much, but she remembered them being treasured memories at the time, each and every one. And it made her ashamed. "And, um..." And she didn't want to mention Quinnlash either. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't. "You remember that voice that I've been hearing? Outside of the cockpit, I mean?" She took a deep breath. Still. She wanted to talk about it, at least a little. "It's been following me into my dreams now too. It's harder to escape it." She didn't mention that it had been in her dreams since the beginning, or that it wasn't just "the voice." Doctor Follen didn't need to know that, right? And she didn't want to say it.</s>

<|message|>R.I.S.C. "Mhm. Mhmm," Follen muttered as she spoke. He did that often, nodding along, humming affirmative now and then, not obtrusively, but enough that she could tell he was engaged, listening. Sometimes he didn't make any noise at all though, just conveyed his attention in his eyes, hardly affording himself a blink as though he might somehow miss something in that split moment. When she brought up the voice, he was silent as the void outside the station. It had clearly been of particular interest to him—and, he insisted, it ought to be to her as well. At first he had tried to be reassuring, telling her that connecting to a Modir, 'taunting the circuit', could lead to some strange side effects. It was not the first instance he'd seen of a pilot hearing voices and feeling alien thoughts even after they'd left the cockpit. But when she mentioned that voice had been with her in Hovvi, his explanations fell flat. Normally that might have been cause for alarm, but the sheer enthusiasm with which Follen approached that information, the way he made it seem like she had nothing to fear—it was almost like she did have nothing to fear. As she described the voice following her into her dreams—her hesitation poignant enough that even she could tell he'd noticed—Follen's pen halted, and he gave her his complete, undivided attention. "And what is it saying to you in your dreams?" he asked. "You used the word 'escape'. Do you feel as though it's chasing you? Threating you? Does it seem to want something from you?"</s>